Most of us are familiar with the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. A little girl wanders through the woods and happens upon a little cottage where she finds a bear family’s porridge setting out to cool. She tastes each bowl until she finds the one that is just right.
And eats it all up.
She then looks for a place to rest her feet from her journey. She tries out all the chairs until she finds the one that is just right.
And breaks it.
She then opts for plan B and decides to have a lie-down. So, she tries out all the beds until (you guessed it) she finds the one that it just right.
And falls asleep in some other little one’s bed.
Now, when the bear family comes home, the only one who says anything about the situation is Baby Bear. He points out the injustice that has been done to the family while they were out. And the parents just stand by, saying nothing. When Goldilocks is discovered, she simply runs off, leaving the family stunned in her wake.
Sorry, but I’m not buying that.
I can’t speak for Papa Bear, but I’m thinking Mama Bear would have had something to say. In the wild, you mess with a cub, and you’re likely going to be mauled to death. Mama Bear is not going to stand there in her sweet little bonnet, paws folded, and allow the little tramp to get away unscathed.
I should know. I’m a Mama Bear. And you don’t mess with either of my cubs.
Say, for example, I’m at a popular fast food restaurant, and my littlest one is playing in the area reserved for cubs of her size. A larger cub rushes in and begins a king-of-the-hill-style takeover. Unhesitantly, I swoop in, grab up my little one, and shoot angry glances at the offending party while seeking out its mother to give her the same. Words may not be exchanged, but if looks could kill, consider yourself a goner.
Or, say that a group of playground bullies begins throwing rocks at each other and my cubs are caught in the crossfire. This time, the words come before I can check myself. One of the sleuth, or group of bears (no, I’m not that smart — I had to look it up), then runs off to tell its mama about my verbal assault.
Go ahead. I’m not scared. I’d love to hear why this particular mama bear allows her cub to wander off and terrorize others. (In the end, I didn’t get the chance. Mama packed up her cub — yes, she was in the car the whole time — and drove away.)
Recently, the story of a woman in my state of residence became national news. She shot and killed an intruder as he broke through her defenses and entered her home, threatening the safety of herself and her three-month old son. “There’s nothing more dangerous than a mother with her baby,” she said.
You got that right, Mama!
More recently, another story emerged of mamas and papas being kept from their newborn cubs due to the extra security afforded a more famous mama and her cub. For me, the issue is not how much of the story has been sensationalized. You don’t keep a mama (or papa) bear away from the cub, especially when it is sick. Someone will pay (either publicly or privately) for that error in judgment.
In light of the fatal blow dealt one intruder and the bad publicity now afforded both a superstar and an entire hospital, Goldilocks should consider herself very lucky that she escaped. In the real world, Mama Bear’s not letting you get away.