Wild West, I Bearly Knew Ya.

I smiled and joked about signs warning residents of "bear sightings."

Then the other night, while we were all watching Casablanca, Becky says, all excited, "There's a bear on our porch!"

We scurry to the window and, sure enough, an adorable little cub is prowling around. I mumble,

"Where's Mama?"

Few seconds later, Mama arrives.

Adorable. And my kids can get used to playing inside. For the rest of their lives.

Yesterday I read about another encounter with a bear, this one deadly.

Now I'm pissed.

Look, I've never been a camper. Even at fifteen, I refused to take part in such an unnatural act. If God had meant for us to sleep outside, He never would have created the Hyatt.

Still. After all this bear shit, I want on the first flight back to civilization. Like now.