Nanny-bear.

I had a lesson in esteem today, from Gregory, one of my orphans. He pointed out that while in the Anglophone world (he knows big words, does Gregory) they are known as Teddy-Bears in memory of an American President, Roosevelt who refused to shoot a bear cub.

Yes, we know that … yaaaaaaawn.

“Well,” he continued,” what is the French for us, then?”

“Nounours” I replied “Logically because “ours” is bear and.. um..OK I give up, Gregory. You tell me. It’s not from “stuffed toy” because that is “peluche” so explain it.”

Gregory patted my hand in a somewhat patronising manner and continued.

“Yes, “ours” is bear. What is a “nou-nou”?” His glass eyes fixed me rather hard.

“A nanny!” I yelled. “A child-minder!”

“Correct. So you see, the French appreciate us for our child-minding abilities. They know what we do best. Who was your first best friend, Rev. Mother?”

“Edbard”

“Exactly. And we’ve never abandoned you, have we?”

That was the point where I burst into tears and did what you are supposed to do to teddy bears – I hugged him close.


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