It all started on Boxing Day. We packed up the car and decided to brave the mall – knowing it would be insane – in search of some Boxing Day deals. Except things don’t quite go the way you want them to when you have a two year old with you. Instead of shopping for some new jeans, like I so badly needed, we ended up in the Build-a-Bear Workshop.
For those of you unfamiliar with the store, it’s essentially a store that allows children to make their own teddy bear (or other stuffed toy) and offers clothes, accessories, cars, etc. for said stuffed animal. If you’re American, you may be familiar with American Girl. It’s a lot like that but for stuffed bears/dogs/cats/etc. instead.
I thought it would be super cute to let her make a stuffed bear. I have one (seriously) and I love mine so much that I even traveled with it everywhere I went for a few years. It’s really awkward to explain to an airport security agent why you’re traveling with a fuzzy companion in your suitcase… when you’re 25 years old… but I did and it never went over well.
In any case, we walk into the store and I show Willow the rows of stuffed animals and tell her to pick one. She looks at them all and wanted to choose this creepy looking cat so I diverted her attention from the weirdo kitty and instead brought her back to the bears and other less creepy looking stuffed animals. She settled on an adorable brown and black puppy.
The lady working at the Workshop let Willow help her stuff the puppy and then Willow chose a cute little heart to put inside the puppy. Once the puppy was stuffed and its back sewn up, I looked at the lady helping us and said, “Now what?” I’d later regret those words with all of my being.
She instructed us to the bath area where you can press a pedal and shower the puppy and there were brushes lying around that you could use to brush your bears / puppies / other stuffies. It was at this point that I got sucked into the other dimension that is Build a Bear Workshop and the next few minutes of my life (read: forty-five minutes) were lost in a sea of “whatever-you-want-take-my-debit-card-please”-ness.
Willow and I skipped through the store, checking out all that you could buy for your puppy. Before I knew it, I had a dog dish (with a little mat for underneath the dish), a dog bed and a dog brush. I found myself wondering aloud, “Hmm.. I wonder if they have little COLLARS FOR THE PUPPIES!?!” and I searched high and low for one. (Side note: it turns out that they have leashes but not collars so I actually contemplated taking Willow to Wal-Mart to buy one.)
Once I had all of the accessories in hand, we headed over to the computer to name the puppy. I looked at Willow and asked, “Willow, what would you like to name your puppy?” After much contemplation Willow looked at me and said, “PUPPY!” and so it was. Puppy the Puppy was named and a birth certificate printed.
So, yeah. Willow now has a puppy named Puppy and I’m down at least $50. My lesson for you? Do NOT walk into the store… They must spray something in the air that makes you become powerless to saying the word NO. Or, maybe I just got caught up in the whole teddy bear thing… 😉