I was working on some CEU's for my licenses today, and while I was waiting for my slow ass printer to print the certificates, I decided to channel my inner 8 year old and asked Siri to tell me a story. Siri obliged, and the story he opted to tell me? Goldilocks and the three bears. (And yes, my Siri is male, and with an Irish accent to boot. Fuck the patriarchy, amirite?)
So because I did not want to move immediately on to the next CEU, despite needing to get 10 more done by the 18th, I went down a bit of a rabbit hole after Siri let me choose the ending to that delightful children's tale of B&E. Did you know that Goldilocks was originally some sort of foul mouthed vagrant with no regard for the standards of beauty for her day, and she had been shunned by her family in some sort of weird British Amish-type shunning because she was a disgrace? And the three bears were originally three bachelor bears, two big ones and a little one? The whole "someone is sleeping in my bed, and here she is!" thing was totes part of the original, though. And in one version, Goldilocks gets impaled after she runs away.
I....have some concerns about what is going on here in this picture. Apparently this is an illustration from a second edition printed in 1839.
Naturally, I had to write my own version of Goldilocks because of course I do. Enjoy.
Goldilocks and the Three Bears, OR Wherein Goldie Catches a Case
Once upon a time, three anthropomorphized bears lived in the woods in a cute little cabin. How or why did they get a cabin? IDK, but I'll bet they have a cute little porch on it too AND they don't have to pay property taxes or deal with shitty neighbors who blow their lawn clippings into your yard just because they're fucking BEARS and no one wants to be the one to tell them they gots to go.
These bears apparently like porridge. But seriously, who the fuck eats porridge now a days? Let's say they like overnight oats. In mason jars, from a recipe that Papa Bear pinned on Pinterest because they are a modern bear family and Papa does the Pinteresting in this household. So they have their pint jars, with the oats and the unsweetened almond milk and some blueberries and flax and chia seeds. And honey, because DUH, they're BEARS. They set them out and some try to warm theirs up because seriously, cold oats is like eating a bowl of warm ice cream. Well, the microwave was new and way more powerful than the others, so they over did it a bit. And because bears have zero regard for both food safety AND home protection, they left for a walk while the oats cooled and left the door wide open.
Enter Goldie. She was out wandering the woods after mistakenly consuming some magic mushrooms and thought she was tripping when she saw the house with the door wide open because, seriously, WHO DOES THAT??? So, enjoying her trip, she wandered into this cabin that mysteriously appeared in the forest, never dreaming that it belonged to bears because WTF? Who would think that, tripping or no? She sees the overnight oats in the mason jars, and realizes that this home belongs to people who pin and that is like the song of her people right there, as a middle class white woman who has live, laugh, love hanging on her wall on a pallet board sign she upcycled with a bow made from Dollar Tree ribbon.
Now being that she was high from the shrooms, she decided to eat. Wait, do shrooms give you the munchies? Quick Google search gives mixed results. Let's just say that she found the shrooms alongside some weed, as someone was companion planting in raised beds a la the Tok. She has the munchies, that would make lukewarm overnight oats in mason jars sound appealing. She tries Papa Bears, and Papa, despite it being a modern household, does have some internalized toxic masculinity and therefore does not need his oats warmed because he's a MAN. Naturally, they are too cold. Then she tries Mama's, and Mama did not realize that the new microwave was a 1200 watt vs 600, so hers are way too hot. Then she tries Baby Bear's, and of course they are just right in an attempt to move this story the fuck along.
Then she decides all that wandering the woods has made her feet a bit tired, so she needs to sit. She goes into the living room and sees three chairs all around the fire in a sickeningly saccharine tableau. She sits in Papa's, and as it's made of pallets and upcycled cushions, it's too hard for her bony ass butt. Next. Goldie moves on to Mama's, who has thrifted a chair from Goodwill and as a result, the springs are broken and she has piled throw pillows to compensate. So that chair is too soft. Then she moves to Baby Bear's chair, and of course this one feels good, but also of course the ass that was too bony for Papa's chair is also too big for the bambino's, so she breaks that thing and falls to the ground and nearly gives herself a concussion.
She moves onto the bedrooms. All three have their own, because they are a modern family and feel that they need to respect each other's privacy. So she wanders into Papa's room, and he has a cheap memory foam mattress on top of some cinderblocks because he saw a pin on it, so naturally, too hard. Mama's bed is an expensive sleep number bed that she has set to be as fluffy as possible, but it is simply too much for Goldie in her shroom/pot state and she really starts to freak out that she is flying on a cloud so off she jumps. Then she moves to Baby's bed, and it's actually comfortable despite being a twin, so she soon nods off as the drugs really kick in.
The Bear family comes home, and at first they don't realize that someone has entered the house because the door remained WIDE OPEN, just like they left it. They all soon see that the jars of oats have spoons stuck in them where they did not prior to their departure, and someone had consumed all of Baby Bear's, which upset him greatly as the family had gathered those blueberries just the other day from their organic, non-GMO blueberry bush. Plus, almond milk ain't cheap and they used the last of it for these stupid mason jars of oats.
Moving into the living room, they soon see that Baby Bear's chair is broke AF. Plus, Mama's pillows have been disturbed and the cheap cushions still have a bony little ass imprint in them on Papa's chair, so they all deduce that the intruder sat in the living room.
By now, Papa is on the phone with the police, talking about the breaking and entering that happened. The family then moves onto the bedrooms, to see if any of their valuables have been taken. All Mama and Papa see are their beds slightly tousled as though someone laid down and disturbed the military precision with which they both like their beds made. Baby Bear, however, shrieked in terror at a HUMAN being in his bed, sound asleep. Goldie, however, does not stir as that was some good weed she smoked.
So the cops come and throw Goldie into jail (let's just ignore the fact that the cops are human and the Bears were, well, bears, because really this is long enough). Goldie soon comes to and realizes she fucked up big time as she had grabbed a shit ton of those mushrooms AND the pot. The mushrooms she intended on putting into her spaghetti sauce, and the pot, well, she wanted some dessert, let's just say. However, she inadvertently got herself several felonious drug charges because she was too stupid to actually research how to tell what kinds of mushrooms you were getting and she had grabbed enough that they were accusing her of intent to deal. Plus, seriously, who plants garden variety mushrooms next to marijuana? Luckily for Goldie, she was able to avoid prison time by doing a treatment in lieu of conviction. The Bears, being very displeased with the direction in which their corner of the woods was going (I mean, someone growing drugs nearby AND a B&E? Neighborhood's going to shit, I tell you what) soon packed up and moved to the Canary Islands, where it is 70 degrees year round and people don't just wander into other people's houses. I will say, though, that the Bears now lock their doors and they have converted back to porridge because old fashioned stuff is becoming all the rage now on social media according to Papa, like cooking grandma's recipes, growing your own food, names like Esther and Harold, and overt racism and white supremacy.
So moral of the story? Don't do drugs. Lock your doors. Learn better gardening skills. And don't fuck with bears, even if they have a better house in the woods than you do.
