Who ate the Porridge?

A  far more accurate account of the events of that  fateful morning...
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> Baby  bear goes downstairs, sits in his small chair at the  table.  He
> looks into his small bowl. It is  empty. 'Who's been eating my porridge?' he
> squeaks.
>
>
> Daddy  Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big  chair. He looks
> into his big bowl and it is also  empty. 'Who's been eating my porridge?!?'
> he  roars.
>
>
> Mummy Bear puts her  head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and
> yells, 'For God's sake, how many times do I have to  go through this with you
> idiots? It was Mummy Bear who got up  first. It was Mummy  Bear who woke
> everyone in the house. It  was Mummy Bear who made the  coffee. It was Mummy
> Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from  last night and put everything away.
> It was  Mummy Bear  who swept the floor in the kitchen. It was Mummy Bear
> who went  out in the cold early morning air to fetch the  newspaper and
> croissants. It was Mummy Bear who set  the damn table.
>
>
> 'It  was Mummy  Bear who walked the bloody dog, cleaned  the cat's litter
> tray, gave them their food, and  refilled their water.
>
>
> 'And  now that you've decided to drag your sorry  bear-asses downstairs and
> grace Mummy Bear with your  grumpy presence, listen carefully, because I'm
> only  going to say this once....
>
>
>
> 'I  HAVEN'T MADE THE
>
>
> FUCKING  PORRIDGE YET!!!! 
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> >