Remo’s hand met empty air. He sat up. He looked left. He looked right. He looked under the cozy blue blanket. Bearry was not there. "Bearry?" Remo asked, his voice shaking just a little.
Remo started to feel frustrated. His shoulders felt tight, and his heart was beating fast. He wanted to shout, but he remembered what his mommy said: “When you lose something, stop, breathe, and think it through.” Remo took a deep breath. In... out. Bearry
He ran to the hallway. There, sitting perfectly on top of the pile of clean clothes, was Bearry. He looked very cozy, almost like he had fallen asleep waiting to be brought back. Remo’s hand met empty air
"Okay, Bearry," Remo whispered, reaching out for his favorite stuffed bear. "Time for—" He looked right
He closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he felt Bearry’s soft fur. He remembered the snack. He remembered the tag. And then, he remembered the second snack. "The laundry basket!" Remo whispered.
After a long day of building pillow forts, chasing imaginary dragons, and eating peanut butter crackers, six-year-old Remo was ready for bed. He brushed his teeth— chka-chka-chka —put on his rocket ship pajamas, and hopped into bed.
Mom appeared in the doorway. "Oh no! Where did you have him last?"