The Bear in the Chair (a new children’s book by Janet Flaugher)
THE BEAR IN THE CHAIR by Janet Flaugher
On a Saturday morning, that was coolish, but fair,
I was reading a book by the living-room stair.
Then I heard a great snorfling and grumbling somewhere,
And I saw something move in the overstuffed chair.
The sun cast a shadow that caused me to stare
At a huge, monstrous beast in the living-room chair!
I ran to my dad and I yelled, “There’s a bear!
It’s wrestling around in the overstuffed chair!”
My father looked puzzled. “Does it have any hair?
And what is it wearing?” “Dad, I do not care!”
Bears don’t wear clothes, and they’re covered with hair!”
My dad shook his head. “I don’t think that it’s there.
Your mother was taking a nap in that chair.”
“A bear in the chair would surely be rare.
Bears live in the country. We’re here, and they’re there!”
“Oh, Dad, please believe me. It’s grown way up to there.
It got in through the pet door. It got in over there!”
“It prowled and it growled, and it jumped in the chair.
It’s gobbled my mother. She’s no longer there!”
“There’s a ravenous, dangerous bear in the chair,
That we’ve got to capture, if only we dare!”
Dad grabbed a flyswatter; I got my net-snare,
And we sneaked ’cross the floor and breached the bear’s lair.
It rolled and it growled in an effort to scare.
It brandished its big, hairy feet in the air.
We turned and we tumbled and whirled in the chair.
There was snarling and howling; there were shrieks of despair!
We assailed it with swats and with nets in its hair.
We tried to surround it and tear down its lair!
It eluded our capture, with seconds to spare,
And slipped away slyly, right out of our snare!
The room became silent. “Oh, look! It’s not there!
It’s only my mother awake in the chair.
She looks quite disheveled from the bout with the bear.
But now she is safe, ‘cause the bear isn’t there.
Dad went back to the kitchen. I played by the stair.
Mom went back to her nap after straightening her hair.
Dad peeked in on us often; looked around with great care,
Nervously asking, “Is it okay in there?”
It all felt quite normal, with no bear anywhere.
But I still kept my eye on the overstuffed chair.
The next Saturday morning, still coolish, but fair,
I was drawing cartoons by the living-room stair.
The sun cast its shadows, but I did not care.
The chair-den was empty! No bear over there.
So, enjoy all your mornings, read your book by the stair.
Draw your drawings, watch sunbeams, and play without care.
But I think I must warn you, you might want to beware,
If you live in a house with an overstuffed chair.
© 2025
The Bear in the Chair
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Posted: January 19, 2026 by J Flaugher
The Bear in the Chair (a new children’s book by Janet Flaugher)
THE BEAR IN THE CHAIR by Janet Flaugher
On a Saturday morning, that was coolish, but fair,
I was reading a book by the living-room stair.
Then I heard a great snorfling and grumbling somewhere,
And I saw something move in the overstuffed chair.
The sun cast a shadow that caused me to stare
At a huge, monstrous beast in the living-room chair!
I ran to my dad and I yelled, “There’s a bear!
It’s wrestling around in the overstuffed chair!”
My father looked puzzled. “Does it have any hair?
And what is it wearing?” “Dad, I do not care!”
Bears don’t wear clothes, and they’re covered with hair!”
My dad shook his head. “I don’t think that it’s there.
Your mother was taking a nap in that chair.”
“A bear in the chair would surely be rare.
Bears live in the country. We’re here, and they’re there!”
“Oh, Dad, please believe me. It’s grown way up to there.
It got in through the pet door. It got in over there!”
“It prowled and it growled, and it jumped in the chair.
It’s gobbled my mother. She’s no longer there!”
“There’s a ravenous, dangerous bear in the chair,
That we’ve got to capture, if only we dare!”
Dad grabbed a flyswatter; I got my net-snare,
And we sneaked ’cross the floor and breached the bear’s lair.
It rolled and it growled in an effort to scare.
It brandished its big, hairy feet in the air.
We turned and we tumbled and whirled in the chair.
There was snarling and howling; there were shrieks of despair!
We assailed it with swats and with nets in its hair.
We tried to surround it and tear down its lair!
It eluded our capture, with seconds to spare,
And slipped away slyly, right out of our snare!
The room became silent. “Oh, look! It’s not there!
It’s only my mother awake in the chair.
She looks quite disheveled from the bout with the bear.
But now she is safe, ‘cause the bear isn’t there.
Dad went back to the kitchen. I played by the stair.
Mom went back to her nap after straightening her hair.
Dad peeked in on us often; looked around with great care,
Nervously asking, “Is it okay in there?”
It all felt quite normal, with no bear anywhere.
But I still kept my eye on the overstuffed chair.
The next Saturday morning, still coolish, but fair,
I was drawing cartoons by the living-room stair.
The sun cast its shadows, but I did not care.
The chair-den was empty! No bear over there.
So, enjoy all your mornings, read your book by the stair.
Draw your drawings, watch sunbeams, and play without care.
But I think I must warn you, you might want to beware,
If you live in a house with an overstuffed chair.
© 2025
Category: Updates