"Who's been eating my porridge?!!" she squeaks.
Daddy Bear arrives at the table and sits in his big chair. He looks into his big bowl and it is also empty.
"Who's been eating my porridge?!!" he roars.
Mummy Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and yells.
"How many times do we have to go through this with you two? It was Mummy Bear who got up first, it was Mummy Bear who woke everyone in the house, it was Mummy Bear who made the coffee, it was Mummy Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last night and put everything away, it was Mummy Bear who went out in the cold early morning air to fetch the newspaper, it was Mummy Bear who set the table, it was Mummy Bear who put the cat out, it was Mummy Bear who cleaned the litter box, it was Mummy Bear who filled the cat's water and food dish. And now that you've decided to drag yourselves downstairs and grace Mummy Bear's kitchen with your grumpy presence, listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this one more time...
"I HAVEN'T MADE THE BLASTED PORRIDGE YET!!!"