The Big Bad Wolf Bear

Hick played Santa on Saturday, for a local preschool group. He does it every year, taking little gifts to hand out to the kids. Nothing extravagant. He usually spends around $100 on them. Toys suitable for that age, which he takes in a bag, pulls the bag in a wagon, then dumps the toys in. The kids line up, and get to talk to Santa, then choose a toy from the wagon. 

Hick bought his toys this year. He left them out in SilverRedO, so I didn't see what he got. He just transferred them to his bag in A-Cad before going to the event. He DID have two boxes of toys that he was sorting through on the couch. One of them worried me.

"Are you giving those toys to the kids?"

"Yeah. My buddy gave them to me, for free, to hand out. He's been helping clean out his mother's house, and they're toys nobody needs now."

"I can understand those little action figures. But that big one? That WOLF??? It will scare those kids to death!"

"Wolf? There ain't no wolf. Oh, you mean the BEAR. Somebody'll want it."

"I don't know. They're just little kids. It might give them nightmares! Look at its face!"

"It'll be fine, Val. I guarantee you some kid will want that bear."

The Wolf Bear was at least 18 inches tall. It wasn't a fluffy stuffed toy. Just a resin figure you might set in a shelf. The expression was fierce.

MARK YOU CALENDAR! Val was WRONG! But even worse... Hick was RIGHT!

Hick was thrilled to tell me about the Wolf Bear.

"There was this one little girl, about 3. She went over to my wagon, and picked up that bear. Her mom and dad said, 'Are you sure that's what you want?' And she nodded her head and wrapped both arms around that bear, and wouldn't put it down. She carried it the whole time. She LOVED that bear."

Val stands corrected.