He closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he felt Bearry’s soft fur. He remembered the snack. He remembered the tag. And then, he remembered the second snack. "The laundry basket!" Remo whispered.
Inside the fort? No. Behind the couch? Just a lost Lego. The Bathroom: On the sink? Nope.
Change the (e.g., make it a funny story, a mystery, or a fantasy). Bearry
After a long day of building pillow forts, chasing imaginary dragons, and eating peanut butter crackers, six-year-old Remo was ready for bed. He brushed his teeth— chka-chka-chka —put on his rocket ship pajamas, and hopped into bed.
Mom appeared in the doorway. "Oh no! Where did you have him last?" He closed his eyes and tried to remember
"Okay, Bearry," Remo whispered, reaching out for his favorite stuffed bear. "Time for—"
Bearry wasn’t just a toy. Bearry was a guardian. He had fuzzy brown ears that smelled faintly of maple syrup, one button eye that hung a little loose, and the best hugging arms in the world. Without Bearry, the shadows in the corner of the room looked suspiciously like closet monsters. Without Bearry, his teddy bear duty roster—protecting from spiders and bad dreams—was completely unstaffed. "Mom!" Remo called out. "Bearry is missing!" And then, he remembered the second snack
"Bearry!" Remo cheered, grabbing his friend and giving him a massive squeeze.