Whatever Happened to Goldilocks?

         Down the long, winding path through the forest, past the mossy knoll, a small man with a briefcase carefully made his way towards a cottage. Taking a deep breath he prepared to knock on the bright red door and was a little disturbed to see it opened by a large bear wearing an apron.

         "Oh! I thought it was Goldilocks," the bear exclaimed, brushing away flour with her large paws.

         "Mrs... bear? I'm from the child welfare department," the man replied hesitantly. It was not every day, after all, that you saw a talking bear in an apron.

         "You'd better come in then," the bear said, ambling through to the kitchen where she pointed at four chairs. Seeming as they were neatly labeled Mummy bear, Daddy bear, Baby bear and Goldilocks with 'Paws off' underneath the man decided to stay standing.

         "Mrs. Bear... it has come to our attention that, after that unfortunate incident with the Giant, you and your family have taken into your home the orphaned Miss. Goldilocks."

         "That's right dear. And do please call me Martha, everyone does. Porridge?"

         "No thank you. You do realise Mrs... Martha that there are certain procedures about adopting a child? Even after their mother has been unfortunately trampled," said the man, as officially as he could manage, unable to take his eyes off the sight of Martha making porridge. Really, they didn't prepare you for these things back at head office.

         "Well, it was the decent thing to do. After that unfortunate breaking and entering incident Baby bear and her have become such firm friends that she's like a part of the family. I'm so glad we didn't press charges."

         "All the same Mrs. Bear I'm afraid to tell you that Goldilocks is going to have to be moved into protective custody until we can find her a more suitable family."

         As she turned slowly round, the man in the suit was greeted by a large, puzzled looking bear wielding a spatula. "Suitable? What do you mean suitable?"

         "I'm not questioning your ability as a mother. But we feel it would be better for young Goldilocks to have some more human company."

         "But what's wrong with us adopting her?" Martha questioned, with the beginnings of a sob gathering in her throat.

         "Madam, if you wanted to adopt another bear it would be fine. Even a different type of bear: a black bear or a polar bear perhaps. But Goldilocks is a girl and she needs a human family," the man tried to explain. He hoped she had not picked up on his earlier politically incorrect descriptions, but he was pretty certain the official term was not a bear of Afro-Caribbean origins.

         "But... but we've cared for her! When she came into our house, ate our food and slept in our beds, we didn't savage her. We didn't eat her up. We made her feel welcome, a part of the family and actively encouraged her friendship with our son."

         "Mrs. Bear, it just doesn't work that way. Bears and humans don't mix. If you'd killed the girl, animal rights people would have stepped in and said it was only natural for bears to behave like that. You'd have been defending your habitat. But even they wouldn't stand up for a bear's rights to raise a human child," stated the man, slowly edging towards the kitchen door, to leave.

         "So, I could eat a human and not suffer the consequences, but not adopt and care for a child?"

         The man watched uneasily whilst the bear turned and put down the spatula, trying to work out a reasoned response. All he wanted was to get out of the cottage, although for some reason the bear seemed to have at least stopped crying.

         "I'm sorry madam. Those are the rules. There's nothing I can do about it."

         He took her silence for acceptance, picked up his briefcase and turned to go.

**********

         Later that day, Daddy bear came home to the rich aromas of cooking coming from the kitchen. "No porridge tonight?" he asked surprisedly; he had begun to think his wife couldn't cook anything except porridge.

         "Afraid not dear. But I promise you that you won't be disappointed..."

         Mummy bear went back to stirring the nice, fresh meat casserole and wondered whether Daddy bear would like his present of a new briefcase.