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A few weeks early, but Mer wantesd to surprise me before I figured it out for once — and she did.

She took me to the Galleria Mall to get me a Build-A-Bear. It was wonderful. I was the only one there over four years old getting one I think, but I loved it. It was a special expereince, though I was actually nervous or slightly self-conscious about it.

The ritual has a certain spirituality about it … placing one’s intentions into an object through creative process and symbolic gesture. It was stuffed to my liking … not as squishy as Mer’s bear, but not too firm. But before we go any farther, Ineed to correct the image in your mind.

This is what you are thinking …

It sits around spewing hearts out its pores and saying cuddle me or place me on a high shelf and I’ll be fine.

That’s NOT my bear. My bear, Alb3rt, is a Koala Bear — a dignified explorer reminiscent of both Einstein (hence the namesake) and my Dad.

So this is more the style of MY bear. And I love him for it …

Alb3rt reading National Geographic

He sits around reading most of the day (I respect that, even if he tends to dwell on the pictures), wears cargo pants that tend to fall off his butt, wears his glasses indiscriminately, and has an oldschool British jungle hat that he tends not to wear in the house, out of concern for my sense of propriety. I plan to go online and buy him a lab coat, of course.