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Once upon a time a gorilla named Norman spent his days sitting in front of the toy store. But after years of greeting people who came to enjoy this magical place, Norman decided to retire. He wanted to live with Betsy, and spend his days reading, swinging from the Japanese maple tree, and writing his autobiography.

A replacement for Norman was not easy. Who could possibly fill Norman’s shoes?

We asked Norman to reconsider. “I’d rather swing,” he told us.

Norman, it seemed, had a new life.

 

With the bench empty, Chicken spread rumors around the store. (She is quite a gossip.) Soon, all the animals wanted to audition for the job. The giraffe was too tall; his head bumped the porch ceiling. The rhinoceros was too long; his bum exceeded the width of the wooden bench, three times over. The monkey was too  unpredictable. Instead of greeting customers, he would swing from the rafters. Rather than smiling and laughing, people screamed when the monkey surprised them by jumping on their heads. Instead of customers coming into the store to shop, they ran away in fear of their lives. Something had to be done.

We tried dogs. Big stuffed dogs. Small stuffed dogs. Even real dogs. They barked too much. The lions arrived only to roar and block the entrance to the store.  And then there was the goat, but that story is for another day.

In utter desperation, I called a meeting of the village ducks. Might they take turns sitting on the bench?  I offered duck food–lots. An unending supply. They didn’t quite understand what I was asking them to do, though they tried. Instead of remaining  perched on the bench and politely posing for photos, the ducks chased children away from the store. Those days there was much quacking and honking and screaming. And only occasionally, the ringing of the register.

What was the toy store to do?

Then one day a very large box arrived. So large, in fact, that it had to be opened outside; it did not fit through the door. What was in the box? The employees of the toy store wondered. The customers wondered. The ducks waddled up and down the sidewalk, staring. And wondering, I am certain.

Finally, the sides of the box split open. There he was!

Bear had arrived. He smiled at us. We smiled back . . . until we realized just how large he was. So large, in fact, that when we tried to lift him, he fell over. It took three people to get him up.

“Was Norman this big?” someone asked.

None of us could remember, so I drove home to pick up Norman for a true comparison. I was late returning because Norman insisted on driving; we got lost. After several spontaneous stops to several bakeries (Norman wanted fresh banana bread), we arrived at the toy store.

 

 

Then Norman sat on the bench. So did bear.  Bear was quite large. But his bum fit on the bench, so we hired him. And that is how Bear began his job at the toy store.

Months went by. Years, even. Bear greeted people. He posed for pictures. And then he began to get dirty from being loved so much. The children shared their ice cream, cotton candy, and occasionally, fried dough coated with powdered sugar. They hugged him. They charged into him from high speeds. They jumped on him, sometimes in groups of four. Bear would cry, “Help, help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” 

Outside I would lift Bear back onto the bench.  I’d ask the children to be more gentle with Big Bear. And on one particular day in recent weeks, I suggested that sharing chocolate ice cream with sprinkles might not be such a good idea. 

It was time for Bear to have a  much-needed bath.

The next day it rained and rained. Once again, instead of customers, the sidewalks were occupied with marching ducks in pursuit of rainy-day bargains.  I got out the soap, a bucket, a very large scrub brush, and the hair dryer I’d brought from home.

I looked at bear. He looked at me. “Oh, dear, Bear, you are very, very large. This may take all day,” I said.

First, I showed Bear a yoga pose. (His feet were the dirtiest, and this was the only way for me to access them.) Bear rolled over on his head. “Good, Bear,” I told him.

At the sink, I filled the bucket with hot water and soap. I walked back to Bear.

Bear was no longer alone. Bossy Frog’s babies, who are very, very curious about all that goes on in the store, had wandered over (or rather leaped) to see what I was doing. They stared at Bear. Why was he not on his bench? Why was he upside down? Did he want to join them in a game?

Bear stared back. Why were Bossy Baby Frogs sitting on his head?

After promising the frogs they could help, I began to scrub and scrub and scrub. Bear was patient as could be. Baby Bossy Frogs were not so patient. Besides being very, very curious about all activities in the store, they are also very, very chatty. “When was I going to be done?” asked one. “What do we get to do?” asked another.  ”I want to be in charge,” said the most bossy in the bunch of bossy baby frogs.

 

“Try standing on your head, like Bear,” I told them. So they did. For a long, long time. As long as bossy baby frogs can stand on their heads.

“Am I done?” asked Bear.

“Are we done?” asked a frog. “Yes, my head hurts,” said another. “When can I be in charge?” asked the baby frog much bossier than the rest.

“Yes, Bear, you are almost done. And now, Bossy Frogs, it is time for you to help.”

“Hooray!” said one. “Me first!” said another. “I’m in charge!” said the most bossy baby frog.

Bear waited patiently while the bossy baby frogs argued over who would do what. Finally, they came to an agreement.

 

Assisted by over-eager baby bossy frogs, Bear was soon clean and dry.

And once again, he sits on the bench where he waits for you to visit.

If you would enjoy more stories about the adventures of Norman, Bear, and the baby bossy frogs, let me know.

I am working on a collection of their stories and the unending adventures of the stuffed animals at the toy store.

Have a great week! See you next Friday!

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