We all know that I’m the most inconsistent blogger of all times. Which makes for a back log of excellent cooking successes (okay, and failures too!) and other humorous stories from my life that I’m just dying to share with you, but don’t really make the cut of ‘things to do in my day before I climb into bed.’
And then every once and awhile something happens and I think “no, this is worth dropping everything on my massive to-do list just to respond to this because it’s HILARIOUS.”
Great news people, that is exactly what has happened with Jear Bear.
NO, I don’t have some sort of new pet name for The Boy. But I DO have a new stuffed teddy bear FROM the boy.
Oh, I hope you all just took a deep intake of breath there. I wouldn’t blame you. A stuffed teddy bear? Aren’t you like 29 now? Are we not past that gross ‘I’m giving this girl a teddy bear so that she can cuddle with it and love it just like I love her’ phase?
Answer: Yes. Yes we are.
(Sidenote: If you are a 29 year old girl reading this and you like getting teddy bears. Then I’m really sorry. I’m mean. I’m cruel. I have no heart. Also, next time try asking for jewelry, seriously, its way more fun.)
So, imagine my surprise when for my birthday (reminder: my favorite day of the year) I get called to the front desk to pick up my beautiful tulips… and a very fluffy teddy bear… covered in loud obnoxious saran wrap. You know, the kind where you think “oh, I’ll just quietly smuggle this into my cube” but you can’t because it just is screaming at people every time you make the slightest move, just alerting them to the very fact that someone gave you something and everyone within walking distance to your cube should run over immediately and publicly question you about your new lovely teddy bear.
Yeah, that was a run on sentence. I know, I’m not even sorry because that’s exactly how I would have voiced this story out loud at you.
ANYWHO, here’s where the dilemma began. On one hand, I’m so exited! The Boy sent me tulips! It’s love! He cares! THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER.
On the other hand, a teddy bear? It’s seriously a teddy bear? Do I look like the hopeless romantic type that likes teddy bears? Does my boyfriend even know me at all?
What do you do? Do you say something? Do you causally bring it up in conversation? Or do you just keep it to yourself because you’re so lucky that you have a boy that sends you tulips?
Well, you all know me, and knowing me means you just know I brought it up.
Which I did. I’d like to think gently. And here’s what I found out: The bear came with the tulips and was supposed to be the size of a beanie baby, just a small little add-on that no one would notice.
Now that’s funny. I’d like to thank you internet for unexpectedly upgrading me to something much larger than you promised. High five floral shop. Way to go. Also, WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?!?
And sure, that’s sort of funny, but even more funny is what happened when I left later that day:
Here’s the situation. I go to climb in my car to leave. Bear in hand. And I think “Oh I should totally buckle him and send a picture to The Boy.” And then I was giggling so hard as it was happening that I thought “I should post this on Instagram because the world needs to know how funny
I am this is.” And while posting, I was like, this guy obviously needs a hashtag of his own…
And so began: #adventureswithjearbear
- My new little friend has a name.
- I call him my new little friend (Yes, I appreciate that’s a serious change within the span of the afternoon. I’m a girl. We’re crazy. Back off.).
- I find it hilarious to bring him in public and to take pictures and post them.
Yeah, true story. So recently, you may have seen Jear Bear:
There were freshman boys just holding him at club. Just because he was there. It was adorable. Also, hilarious. Also, he made it into the skit. Jear Bear = Famous.
Don’t worry, he was using a fork and wearing a napkin to make sure he didn’t get dirty.
And tonight, Jear Bear will be rock climbing.
No. I don’t know how that will work.
Yes. I think it’s hilarious.
And all of this because The Boy was thoughtful enough to send a stuffed teddy bear. Which, my reaction to said bear has potentially created a new ‘thing’ we have. Please Good Lord, do not let me receive a stuffed animal as a present ever year. Even if it’s ironic. Because I don’t really think it’s romantic. Just hilarious.
Here’s to you Jear Bear (again, only the name of the teddy bear, I repeat, this is not a pet name for The Boy). Can’t wait to see what adventures lie in store…