an ingenious tip for not going broke at build-a-bear workshop.

if you've taken your child, niece, nephew or grandchild to build-a-bear workshop, you know. it's pricey. you can never really forget the first time you get to the counter and the ever-smiling cashier hands you your "birth certificate" and an obscenely whopping bill.

$75 bucks for a teddy bear? well, yes. if you add an adorable leather jacket, tiny ray-ban sunglasses, a real beating heart and a chamo backpack, then yes.

the whole set-up is genius. it's designed to rip the money right out of your pocketbook.

so that brings me to mr. fluffypants. that's the little guy you see now. he's a frisky little shar pei we rescued from the plastic tub-o-animals at goodwill. i think he cost 50 cents.

anyhoo, he was virtually new, and we washed him in the washing machine, and he got a lot of love. but one day we realized he was not so fluffy any more. his belly was caved in and he had a torn seam.

so we took him to build-a-bear and got him stuffed and fluffed, and loaded up with a heart that goes boom-boom when you squeeze him.

it was quite the make-over. and it cost about $11 with tax. and the boy was thrilled.

so, when the boy says he's dying to go to build-a-bear, i explain that it's a once-a-year kind of place if you want the full treatment. But taking in well-loved creatures (he has hundreds) for the occasional facelift is absolutely doable.

in the end, everyone's happy, including my check book.

and an ironic addendum: he never actually plays with his $75 build-a-bear teddy, with its tiny baseball uniform, hat, glove, bat, surfboard, etc. just sayin.