Teddy Bears - like currency, only furrier

Miss Comic relief has just been to her first Build-a-Bear birthday party. It's something that she was looking forward to with great zeal, because up to this point her big sister had been to three, and she'd been to none. She said it wasn't fair - like a Build-a-Bear party is some kind of right of passage.

If you don't know what Build-a-Bear is, the clue is in the name. You go in to the shop, choose a lifeless furry carcass, stick a cloth heart in it, insert a sound chip with an annoying amercian voice or a random noise deep into its guts, and then stuff the crap out of it and sew it up.

Oh, and don't forget the most important part - whisper a wish into it.

You get to take the pledge of stuffed animal allegience, and receive a birth certificate and a box to carry the thing home with you. It's all so tickity-boo I could just spit with pure delight.

And if you detect an element of sarcasm in my voice, it's because I don't fully uphold the whole thing with the level of joyfulness that apparently I should, because I think it actually devalues the commodity of a "Teddy Bear".

Look at it from our generation's point of view. Did you have a one special teddy that was your favourite? Did someone special give you that teddy? In all likelihood - unless you were that child that played with a brick wrapped in a flannel. Called Alan (the brick, not the flannel), then you probably had a special toy which was quite possibly a teddy bear.

You probably didn't have 56 teddies of various colours and styles that some speccy, spotty holiday jobbing teenager stuffed and stiched for you. Actually, they don't even need to stitch, they just pull the loose back stitched tight and tie a knot.

I think that shops like Build-a-bear water down the whole teddy industry. It's like printing more money to save the econmy. It doesn't really work as expected.

Of course these days it's not just bears - it's bunnys, dogs, cats, wolves and hello kitty's. I can get on board with that concept a bit better than the traditional teddy bear, but because the teddy bears are also available - and little girls LOVE more teddies - they still choose them.

So here was this party, at build-a-bear yesterday. After lunch at McDonalds, 18 six - or nearly six - year olds were running about the store choosing their new best friend. The party budget defines the selection of carcasses that the children can choose from, and at today's party Miss Comic Relief choose a simple teddy bear in a soft light brown. It's a nice teddy, and feels so soft!

I'd have loved her to have to chosen something other than a teddy, but it's up to her to choose (and besides, I wasn't there, I'd rather brave shoe shopping with Mr Boxer Shorts than stand in a shop stuffed to the gills with 18 children all suffering from McDonalds induced hyperactivity).

Having chosen a lifeless bit of fluff, the party guests proceed with all the steps of making a new best friend. And they do this while sitting on the floor of the shop.

Makes it a fun fun place to be if you just happpened to want to go shopping there with your own kids, doesn't it! And it gets worse when the next party is lined up ready to come in, complete with hovering mothers, but the entrance is totally blocked by the previous partie's various motherly appendages attempting to collect the multitudinous offspring from the floor.

Of course, mine came out in tears. Despite just having had a wonderful party time. Firstly because her big sister annoyed her (by simply existing), and then because the speaking thingy in her bear was quiet, and everyone else's was loud. The final upset was because I wouldn't stay and spend money on clothes for her bear.

I put the symptoms down to McD overload and put the wheels of motion into play in order to leave.

I identified her jacket and fleece because it was -2 degrees and a blizzard outside and we escaped to the roof with the loot. (that's where the carpark was, but it makes a good allegory.) And we reached it successfully and without further tears until she realised she'd forgotten her McDonalds toy.

Multilevel hysteria sets in - the McDonalds toy is almost as important as the new bear friend, so the dutiful mother (that's me) starts texting the party holding mother in order to ascertain if there are any McD toys left behind. Yes. Toy nirvana is achieved and a date set for the handover. (Monday at school).

We get home without no further tantrums, other than Mr Boxer Shorts muttering dark threats at the car, since the mini blizzard is now in full flurry, and the wipers on the car cross exactly three times before popping out again and making happy grinding noises at us, plus the fact that we have to stop at the tennis club to pick up George (the camper van) who got a flat tire earlier in the day and had to be pumped up then abandoned.

It's just a non stop ball of fun around our place.

Once at home, the new bear starts to settle in for approximately ten minutes before a new round of hysterics is launched as she realises that it's not sewn together properly at the back and the lining is coming out.

It turns out that the speaking box had to be inserted after it was sewn up, as she'd forgotten to say that she wanted one at the right time. Which explains why it's now falling apart, as it had to be unpicked for that, plus why the box is closer to the elbow than the hand - and maybe why it's not loud enough to hear without a closed loop for the hard of hearing.

As I prepare to sew "Beanie" up, she voices a new concern - the heart may have fallen out while they were playing games.

"Of course it didn't, I reassure her. It was sewn up then."

"No" she quavers, "this was before they sewed them up."

What the frick? What kind of crazy games get played with toys that have their guts hanging out of them? Road kill intestine maze games?

For goodness sake I think, as I shove my fingers into the belly of the beast, feeling about for a heart. There is nothing but polyester wadding in there.

"Yep, there it is" I lie through my teeth. "All fine and beating like a good un,"

I sew the bear up quickly and hand it back.

Both girls then settle down to play with their amassed collection of Build-a-bears. They have a total of 5 now, plus one non build-a-bear bear that I keep insisting gets played included, since it was given to Miss Trouble Pants by her grandmother when she was little. And gets lonely if left out.

This is my point of devaluing the whole "teddy bear" concept. They are no longer special bears. They are a commodity. They are a party favour. They are collectible items that are mass produced.

Plus the whole party aspect seems like a huge pile of stress. Held on a shop floor, with barely enough room to move around and a spotty party leader shouting out things like "Repeat after me! My bear is special!" at the top of his voice, then stopping as someone points out that they already did that bit, and are now trying to get rid of the party goers.

I am relieved that my little girl spoke up when she didn't get a talking chip in her bear, rather than coming home crying that she missed out on it - which is what I would have actually expected to happen with her. But I kind of feel that the whole thing is over taxing on both the parent and the child, as it looked pretty chaotic.

It would be nicer if the company provided a room for parties, to give them a feel of enclosure, and slight privacy (even if it was glass walled) and also to make them feel more special than to actually sit on a shop floor. Do you let your kids sit down on the floor in Boots or Debenhams?

She obviously enjoyed it, since she wants a build-a-bear party of her own when she turns 6 in March, but I have no compunctions about saying no to that - because I don't think that I could stand the stress of it, plus she'd probably choose yet another teddy bear.

But of course since it's her birthday, my final decision will remain to be seen. Despite my opinions on the devaluing of the teddy bear, I actually like the concept of the store. I think it's a fun idea. I'd just like to see the teddy bear part played down. I'd like to the see the party choices NOT include bears, but focus on other animals. I'd like a room for parties to take place in.

I think that they are probably raking it in, and don't give a fig for my opinion however.

Plus she had a ball, loves her new bear, and is happy to sit on any floor whatsoever.

This store is merely a result of this generation, and of what society is like now in the average western country. Our kids have more toys than we ever did when we were kids - and we weren't deprived by any means. Whoever said that less is more was right, but it's a thoroughly ignored bit of advice in the stuffed toy department.

I think it's possible to simply have too much stuff, certainly possible to have too many bears. Plus there is nothing more disturbing than a teddy bear wearing a wig. This is just wrong.

So while she cuddles and talks to her her new bear for the next week (after which it will be languishing, forgotten in the toy basket) I will be taking time to chat with my old bear, who is nearly 40 years old.

Because Teddy Bears should be special.