Bearry wasn’t just a toy. Bearry was a guardian. He had fuzzy brown ears that smelled faintly of maple syrup, one button eye that hung a little loose, and the best hugging arms in the world. Without Bearry, the shadows in the corner of the room looked suspiciously like closet monsters. Without Bearry, his teddy bear duty roster—protecting from spiders and bad dreams—was completely unstaffed. "Mom!" Remo called out. "Bearry is missing!"
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. Bearry
Remo thought hard. "We were looking at my bug book... then we had a snack... then we played tag..." The search began. It was a serious rescue mission. Under the table? No. Behind the big pot? No. Bearry wasn’t just a toy
"Bearry!" Remo cheered, grabbing his friend and giving him a massive squeeze. Without Bearry, the shadows in the corner of
"Okay, Bearry," Remo whispered, reaching out for his favorite stuffed bear. "Time for—"
Inside the fort? No. Behind the couch? Just a lost Lego. The Bathroom: On the sink? Nope.