Things not to tell Jamie

The other day we were all sitting around reminiscing about our childhoods and someone fondly remembered the time that my brother Brady dressed up in a bear costume, hid in my closet, waited until I fell asleep and then jumped out and scared the bejesus out of me. We were speculating if this event scarred me to the extent that my DNA was altered to include 'scared of bears' to my genetic makeup, and this is what has been passed down to Jamie.

Fear of The Bear has not abated despite our change of location, and Jamie is still very nervous of the concept, to the extent that it's discussed at bedtime every night with soothing platitudes from us that there are only pretend bears at Grandma's house. Like this one in the rafters of the solarium:

One night Jamie even woke me up in the wee small hours to complain that The Bear had gotten into bed with him.

Then a couple of days ago Mister Bo, the Tibetan terrier with an acute sense of smell and an overdeveloped 'Must Protect House' syndrome started barking like a dog possessed. My brother and I went outside to investigate and we saw gigantic black bear at the top of the driveaway. I didn't take any pictures but it was much like this one:
So we can file that right at the top of the list of Things Not to Tell Jamie, right next to 'Honestly, just ask me a couple more times, I'll give in then'.

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