The Story Of The Bear Hug Wiggler; Or Why I'm Not Allowed To Go Out Of The House Alone

We went to BK the other night, hubby, middle girl and I. The kids' toys are Crayola toys. Inside the toy's packaging they always have the insert with all the other toys, so kids whine to come back for more. I looked at it and was intrigued by the "Bear Hug" Wiggler.

I have a thing for bears, and a natural human disposition to laziness, so I wondered, is this thing a bear you put a crayon into and when you wind it up, it draws for you? If so, I need one.

There was no explanation or description on the insert, so I went to the counter to ask the pimply-faced boy standing there. Our interaction was brief and went like this:

Me: "Hi, can you show me the bear wiggler?"

Him: "Huh?"

Me: "Can I see your bear wiggler?"

Him: *blank stare*

Me: "Your bear wiggler -- the Crayola toy."

Him: *digging blindly beneath the counter in what I can only assume is a bin of kids' meal toys -- occasionally looking into the assumed box then back at me*

Me: *waiting hopefully*

Him: "I have no idea what that is. I have no idea what that is."

Me: "Uh, OK, thanks anyway."

I walk to the door to meet the waiting family, whereupon my hubby, sardonic eyebrow raised, says, "Probably not appropriate to ask a guy to show him his 'bare wiggler' in public."

Doh!

All that, and I still don't know what a "Bear Hug" Wiggler is.

But I'm pretty sure I still want one. Now I have a great cougar story to with it.