Dear Kid,

Once upon a time there was a little girl. She was actually quite a spoiled child. She had blonde hair which she loved. Her real name was Trudy but she insisted everyone call her Goldilocks and if they didn’t she would throw a tantrum.

As I said, she was quite spoiled so everyone called her Goldilocks except her Great Aunt who called her Goldy and didn’t care a bit a bit about tantrums because she lived on the other side of the county and would just go home if the chaos got to be too much.

Goldilocks spent her time running around with the cool girls and bullying anyone and everyone. As I said, not a terribly nice young lady.

One day after Goldilocks was particularly nasty at school, the principal had Had Enough and he called her parents. After explaining the situation to a very confused set of parents who greatly preferred to keep their heads in the sand, the principal left them to talk to Goldilocks.

The conversation did not go well (Goldy’s parents hadn’t had much practice after all). Goldilocks threw a colossal tantrum and stormed out of the school. Never having been faced with not getting her way, Goldilocks didn’t really know what to do or where to go and after a few minutes she found herself wandering through the woods.

Facts about The Woods:

There are no street signs. There are no “You Are Here” maps. There are large animals. There is poison oak (but Goldilocks had never bothered to learn what it looked like).

After several hours (it was really only about 45 minutes, but to Goldilocks it felt like for-ev-er), Goldilocks wandered into a house. She actually wandered into it because her hair was blowing around and she didn’t see the house until she’d bumped into it.

Goldilocks taught the trees some new words.

Hot, tired, and frustrated, Goldilocks didn’t even bother knocking on the front door, she just stormed into the house. “Water,” muttered Goldilocks, “I need water.” And then a little louder, “Hello? Hello? Looking for some water here.”

When there was no answer, Goldilocks taught the kitchen counter some new words.

After she got a glass of water, Goldilocks turned, looking for a place to sit. There on the kitchen table, she saw three bowls of porridge. She thought they were oatmeal, because they didn’t have nametags.

Did I mention that she was quite the brat? Grabbing a spoon, Goldy took a bite. “Hot! Hot! Hot!” she said. Now, I’m not sure why she thought that another bowl would be a different temperature, but she took a bite of bowl number 2. “Blech! Blech! Cold!” said Goldilocks trying to spit out the porridge. The girl was nothing if not persistent, so she took a bite of number three. Contrary to popular belief, she didn’t say anything because her mouth was full and there was no one to talk to. And she ate the entire bowl (which wasn’t very big).

After snack, Goldilocks found herself in a carb coma, so she wandered into the living room. (No, she didn’t clean up the dishes. She didn’t even put them up to soak. Did you have to ask?)

“Who decorated this place?” snobbed Goldilocks. “Huge chair, medium chair which is still too big, and reasonably sized chair. Nothing matches, nothing looks comfy.” She decided to try the little chair, and when she sat in it, it broke into a zillion pieces. Goldilocks taught the rug some new words.

Despite having just landed on her keister, Goldilocks couldn’t resist exploring the entire house. Boundaries were not something her parents enforced. Duh.

Upstairs she went. She flopped into the first bed she found, but it was made of concrete. Goldilocks taught the bed spread some new words. She tried the second bed, but the pillows swallowed her and she spent ten minutes trying to claw her way to freedom. Finally, she crashed in the last bed and fell instantly asleep.

Meanwhile, the home’s occupants had been out for a family walk while they waited for their hot/cold/just right porridge to reach room temperature. When they got back, they immediately noticed the break in. Since Papa Bear fancied himself a bear of a sheriff, the family waited while Papa sniffed the door, took finger prints paw prints, and generally posed for selfies. Eventually, Papa reached a Conclusion. “Someone has been here,” he announced. Mama Bear smiled and said, “Yes, Dear.” Baby Bear rolled his eyes and went inside to find breakfast.

While Mama Bear started the coffee, Baby Bear (who was a little on the spoiled side himself) realized his porridge was pre-eaten for him and set up a bit of a fuss. And when we’re talking bears, “a bit of” is more than a little bit.

Mama Bear offered Baby Bear some of her porridge, but it was too cold for him. After a glare from Mama Bear, Papa Bear offered Baby Bear some of his porridge, but by that time BB had stomped off to the living room where he discovered the broken furniture and set up a howl.

“Stop howling,” said Pap Bear. “Now, Dear,” said Mama Bear. “Someone is sleeping in MY BED!” said Baby Bear. “Smarf, snurf, what? BEAR! AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!” said Goldilocks.

“A HUMAN!” yelled Baby Bear and proceeded to throw a tantrum. Papa Bear began to lumber up the stairs. “Get out of my house,” yelled Papa Bear. “Now, Dear,” said Mama Bear in the most soothing tones she could manage.

“More bears!!” yelled Goldilocks and—because she’d learned a thing or two about tantrums even if she never learned manners—began to throw a tantrum that was even more impressive than Baby Bear’s.

Papa Bear looked from BB to Goldy in confusion. “Coffee’s ready,” Mama Bear called, who knew a thing or two about ignoring tantrums. Papa Bear continued to look at the tantrums while he tried to figure out exactly where he’d lost control of the day.

Eventually, Goldilocks up off the bed, tripped over her shoes, screamed, and taught the bears some new words.

Then she ran home. Well, she tried to run home but she had no idea where she was so she actually wandered around the forest until some Boy Scouts found her. By that time, her hair was a hot mess. The always-prepared scouts had forgotten to bring hair detangler, but they had a jackknife and happily hacked off her hair.

From then on Trudy was still a badly behaved child—but one who used her real name. And a wig.

Love, Mom