A bear snack transcript

There we were in the backyard, playing a predatory version of hide-and-seek, where I'm the bear and they become the "bear snacks" if I can find and catch them. I have size and patience, but they have speed and cunning. While I wrapped presents in the family room, the two of them had been making "camp" in six-year-old fashion, by digging a shallow hole in the side of the hill that gives our yard a terraced look.

I crept down the railroad ties that serve as steps from the upper to lower yard.

"Thomas, he's coming! He saw me!"

"Roaraaargh!"

Thomas got chivalrous: "I'm not a afraid of you, bear! Come and fight me, you big baby!"

"Raargh! Snacks!"

"Run, Jane!" He dropped the stick on a string he'd been whirling and scampered uphill ahead of me. "Move the camp!"

Jane advanced on my left, confidently wielding a plastic sword. "Don't worry! I'll take care of him!"

Thwap! She's got a mean swing, that little girl.

"Raargh!"

"Uh, oh. You okay, daddy?"

Thomas returned, dragging what looked like a full watering can to the lip of the slope where Jane was poised above me, just out of reach. Both children have better balance than I do, and both of them know it.

"How are you going to fight, bear? You don't have a weapon. You have a lemon."

True enough. They'd thrown a lemon at me when we started this. They missed, and I picked it up.

"Rowr! I'm a bear. Bears don't need weapons! We have claws."

"Ha!" Thomas shouted, whipping the water can in my direction. "Have a shower, bear!"

He slipped, and started sliding down the hill. "Time out, dad!"

"There's no such thing as time out if you're in a fight with a bear!"

I grabbed him and made munching sounds.

"Dad, help! I'm sliding down the hill."

"I know," I say, grabbing his ankle as he slides headfirst down the hill.

"Jane, help me up!"

She approached the two of us warily. "Here, bear, have a nice fish."

I pantomined scooping up the imaginary fish with one paw. Jane pushed her brother upright from the base of the hill. Then I grabbed his arm and helped him up.

"Nice bear," he said. "Can I give you a hug?"

I let him give me a hug. He had concealed a foam dart under his jacket.

"Ha, bear, I tricked you. This is a bomb! And pretend I have a knife, too."

"Trying to blow up a bear just makes him mad. Besides, I just helped you."

"But that was after you made me a snack."

Jane chimed in. "And daddy, we win the game if we start screaming."

She demonstrated. He joined her. I held my paws over my ears.

"Stop that racket! How about we stop bear snack and you help me turn on the Christmas lights?"