A Week Of WordPress, Day 1

I have decided that for the next seven days I am going to use WordPress’s daily writing prompt, no matter how daft it is. Yesterday’s (we’re in Ireland, they come out during our evening) was to “write a piece of fiction describing the incident that gave rise to the phrase, “third time’s the charm”.”….

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“I don’t know what you were thinking,” said Goldilocks’s mother.

“Sorry,” said Goldilocks, in the sullen, sulky way in which teenagers demonstrate that they’re not in fact sorry at all.

“You sat in their chairs,” said Goldilocks’s mum –

“Yeah, I wanted to ask about that,” said Goldilocks. “How did they know that I sat in their chairs? It’s not like I left an impression of my bum, the chairs were wooden. Also, how was Mummy Bear’s chair smaller than Baby Bear’s? Does she sit in the yoga position when she’s watching telly?”

“Never mind that,” said Goldilock’s mum. “You then tried all of their porridge.”

“Yeah, well I was hungry,” said Goldilocks.

“Because you didn’t eat your breakfast before you left the house,” said Goldilocks’s mum, “which was porridge. You turned it down, as you do every morning, on the grounds that, in your words, it’s 74% greyness and 26% lumps.”

In the case of the porridge produced by Goldilocks’s mum, this analysis was forensically true. Goldilocks decided that it was best not to say that.

“And finally,” said Goldilocks’s mum, “you tried out all of their beds.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that too,” said Goldilocks. “How come Mummy and Daddy Bear have separate beds. And, since they do, where did Baby Bear come from?”

“Er, um,” said Goldilock’s mum, who found this question far more interesting than she was prepared to let on. “Perhaps the stork brought him.”

Goldilocks gave her a withering look.

“Mum, I’m fourteen,” she said, “so I’m not going to fall for that.”

“No?”

“No. There’s no way that a stork could carry a bear, it’d be like an ape in the jungle being suddenly carried off by a parrot.”

“The point, young lady, is that you’re grounded. No going out for two weeks.”

“Oh mum,” said Goldilocks. “That punishment is too hard. How about two days?”

“Too soft,” said Goldilocks’s mum. “A week.”

“That sounds just right,” conceded Goldilocks.

“Now go to your room,” said Goldilocks’s mum.

Goldilocks went to her room and threw herself onto her bed. She has been portrayed throughout history as an innocent if slightly naïve young lady, which just shows that if you’re blonde and cute you can get away with anything. The basic fact is that she broke into a house, where she tried out stuff that wasn’t hers. In other words, she was a burglar.

And now, as she lay on her bed, she recalled how she had gone through the Bears’ jewellery. The first thing that she’d looked at, a huge medallion that Daddy Bear obviously wore to discos with an open-necked shirt to show off his hairy chest (and rightly so, in his case) was too garish. The second thing, a ring which, by the look of it, Mummy Bear wore in some piercing somewhere, was too icky. The third, a bracelet with little trinkets, which she now held it clenched tightly in her fist, was just right.

The third one was a charm.

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