Bear Chooses His Sunday Dinner

Bear is seven and one half years old.  I nervously agreed that bear was allowed to go to a shop around the back with the grandson from next door who is ten years old and very sensible.  They wouldn't be crossing a road, they would be in sight of a lot of places where people know them, it really is around 100 yards or less and the shop itself is very friendly.  I am certainly not ready for bear to be crossing the local roads.  If I feel like I am taking my life in my hands crossing the road then it is definitely not suitable for bear, not for a while!

Bear came back.  The lovely grandson from next door had shared his pocket money, and bear had come back triumphantly with... a pot noodle.  Bear went into a shop selling sweets and came home with a curry pot noodle.  I couldn't believe it.  But he was insistent that he was having that pot noodle for dinner and that was that.  I gave in.  He was going to have to eat it if he insisted and I was sick of plating up dinners that bear rejected or complained about.  As it was he emptied the pot and I breathed a sigh of relief.  It isn't ideal though.

I can picture the scene in school.  'What did you have Sunday dinner?' 'Pot noodle, miss.' 'Really, did your parents buy you that?' 'No miss, my friend bought it for me.'  'What did everyone else have?' 'Slow cooked ham in cider, chips and peas, miss.'

One day I am going to be called into school to explain myself, I really am.