Fuzzy Wuzzy Was A Bear

For the past week or two, the carols have been playing on the radio, holiday decorations are hanging up everywhere you look and life in general has mostly become about shopping. With December 25th fast approaching, most of us are darting in and out of malls during our free time and surfing the internet looking for bargains during our work time.

Every year, while going through the “I have 3 more people I have to buy for” madness, I’m reminded that holiday shopping is not for the faint of heart. We all put a lot of pressure on ourselves to come up with that idea for the perfect gift. The one amazing thing that will make our loved ones scream out "It's the best gift EVER!" while tears of joy stream down their blissful faces. But let's think for a moment. Tell me, how many gifts that you either gave or received over the years can you actually remember? Other than the big stuff like maybe an engagement ring or a puppy, I'm guessing most of us draw a blank when it comes to remembering the majority of our gifts.

Except, of course, for the bad ones.

For example, my sister still talks about the year when, as children, we snuck into our parents' bedroom and opened the hidden gifts pre-Christmas. While rifling through the boxes and bags in our parents’ closet, she came across a pocketbook. A red and blue pocketbook with fringe on the bottom and a strap made of plastic links. It was hideous. Without hesitation, she said "I hope this is going to Dottie" (Our other sister.) It wasn’t. Then there was the year I gave my sister a "surprise package" I had ordered from a catalogue. Even I hadn't seen the contents of the box before she unwrapped it. Waiting inside, there were little brown candles which looked exactly like someone had pooped. Poop candles for Christmas. Now that’s hard to forget.

And then, as my family is all-too-familiar with, there's my earliest holiday disappointment: Fuzzy Wuzzy bath soap.

It was Christmas, 1965. I had just turned 4 years old and all I remember wanting Santa to bring me was Fuzzy Wuzzy bath soap. Fuzzy Wuzzy was like the holiest of holy grails. It was animal shaped soap that claimed to “grow fur”. What 4 year old wouldn’t want furry soap? But Fuzzy Wuzzy was so much more. The soap came in a circus cage shaped box, complete with wheels. And, much like crackerjack, there was a toy surprise hidden inside. To my 4-year old self, this was soap nirvana.

I remember sitting on Santa’s lap that year and asking for that soap. I don’t remember asking for anything else. Who had time for a slinky or play dough when the Big Guy might not see me as Fuzzy Wuzzy soap worthy? Since elves mostly made toys and not soap, I was worried there might be a Fuzzy Wuzzy shortage and I wouldn’t be on the list to get one. With what had to be hundreds of thousands of kids all asking for the soap, how could I make sure that my name was on one of those boxes? I’m sure on Christmas Eve when I went to bed, I prayed and prayed hard. “Dear God, if you love me, you’ll make sure I get that soap.”

Cut to Christmas Day. The only gift I remember getting? Yup, bear shaped Fuzzy Wuzzy soap. I ripped that box open and went running to the bathroom sink. Who had time for stockings or toys when there was soap fur and a prize in my not too distant future? Over the next few days I spent more time in the water than a born-again Christian with a baptism addiction. I washed and re-washed so many times with the soap that I’m sure I looked to the world like a preschooler with serious OCD issues.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. Soap wears down far too slowly and I needed to see the prize that awaited me inside my blue bear. So I grasped that bear in my two small hands and snapped it in two. My “prize” was a tiny plastic red telephone, about the size of the fingernail on my pinkie. I don’t know what I expected would be in there, but I felt robbed.

It’s been 43 years since my Fuzzy Wuzzy soap Christmas and though I might have been disappointed, I’ve had 43 years of telling this story. So remember, this year if you end up giving someone a gift that’s not exactly what they hoped for, it’s OK. For all you know, you’re giving them a story that could last a lifetime.