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Sooner or later, Webkinz gets us all

By SUE CARLTON
Published December 22, 2007

I'm standing in a crowded store contemplating a stuffed animal that the tag says is called "Googles," which looks to me to be a platypus but may in fact be a duck.

Which then has me wondering if Googles is an ordinary duck or instead a rare and sought-after "Love Duck," in which case his purchase as a Christmas gift could win me deep admiration from certain preteen girls in my life, not to mention the chance that they might be especially generous should they one day have a role in choosing Aunt Sue's rest home.

But, no.

I am later informed by one of the preteens that, while there indeed exists a coveted heart-covered "Love Frog" and also a "Love Puppy" (which I later find selling on Amazon for $159.95), there is no "Love Googles." And while I did not witness the actual exasperated rolling of eyes as I was being told this, it was implied.

I swore this would never happen to me.

I escaped the whole Beanie Baby craziness years back, particularly admiring my mother-in-law's insistence on letting her grandkids play with them instead of shelving them in protective plastic cases. Beanie Babies being, you know, toys and all.

I have sometimes been persuaded to purchase for nieces, nephews and the godchild the Official Toy Of The Moment, provided it did not require a trip to more than one store or a second mortgage or have the potential for anyone getting maimed, virtually or otherwise.

Oh, but these toys called Webkinz are seductive creatures. They're affordable and diabetic coma-inducing cute, soft and sweet-faced Basset Hounds, Black Bears, Lions, Leopards, a Cheeky Monkey, a Chihuahua, a Pink Poodle - the sort of stuff some kids go nuts for.

Each "pet," I learn, comes with a secret code kids enter on a Web site. Online, they feed and exercise their "pets," play games and earn virtual money to care for them. It is a toy that involves what sounds suspiciously like responsibility.

Earlier this month Google (the search engine, not the platypus/duck) named Webkinz its second-fastest rising search term behind iPhone and (thankfully) above the celebrity gossip site TMZ.com.

So a friend tells me her daughter would love a Webkinz frog for Christmas. At my local Walgreens I in fact find a Frog, only to learn there is also a Bull Frog, Tree Frog and Spotted Frog. Something about that Spotted Frog I like, so I get him, plus a Polar Bear, a Black Lab and a Black Friesian (a horse) for the other age-appropriate girls on my list, all of whom are also apparently Webkinz-mad.

Which is how I came dangerously close to being Aunt Sue-Without-A-Clue.

Turns out they collect them. And collect and collect and collect them. This begins to dawn on me when I ask one mom which Webkinz her daughter already has, and she says it would be a lot quicker if I just told her which ones I bought.

But the story ends fine, with Webkinz doled out appropriately and those that would mean twins donated where they would be appreciated.

When it was over I was thinking how glad I was that my sister's daughter is 15 and past this. Though recently, she has shown interest in a clothing line that includes the word "couture," and now I'm wondering how she might feel about finding a nice platypus under the tree. Or a duck. Whatever.

[Last modified December 21, 2007, 23:44:30]