Not long ago, in a land not far from here, I held a waitressing position at an outdoor establishment. I worked long and hard through the summer months—tripping on uneven pavement, dropping a martini glass (ONCE), sweating through my khaki shorts, and struggling to cover up the sweat stains with my server apron—all in the name of earning some billz. After working hard for so long, you’d think I’d wisely save my money, instead of spending it on something silly. You’d be wrong. The best $200 I ever spent was on a Brown Cheeky Dog Webkinz from a smoke-free home on eBay.
Even though you might consider this a silly purchase, I’d like to emphasize that owning the Brown Cheeky Dog is the culmination of my wildest childhood dreams. Growing up, I was what you might call a Webkinz connoisseur, Competitive Procurer of Rare Webkinz. My collection was extensive. It all started with my first Webkinz, a pig named Salt, because I enjoyed the seasoning of the same name. Salt and I became fast friends, but he needed more socialization. I got him some new friends to hang out with when I wasn’t around, and he became even happier. Thus, the collection grew exponentially.
It was also around this time that my father, a man of business, taught me the meaning of a dollar. One day, I asked him if I could get a new Webkinz. He took out his wallet, pulled out a dollar bill, and asked me, “Samantha, do you know how much work it takes to earn this?” and I said, “No, Dad, but if I reached out and grabbed it right now, I would know.” He told me that some people work for a whole hour and only earn about eight of those dollars. I said that I could work for about two seconds and earn more than eight of those dollars, by taking his wallet right then and there. And that’s when my career in thievery started.
Just kidding. My dad told me that if I wanted any more Webkinz, I’d have to start appreciating the hard work that goes into earning the money to buy them. I said, “Okay, Dad.” And he had the audacity to put the dollar bill back in his wallet! As if listening to his financial lecture as a young child wasn’t hard work. Pfft.
Anyway, at the time, it was nearly impossible to acquire the rare Brown Cheeky Dog Webkinz. Practically everyone I knew was after that beautiful stuffed animal, with its big floppy ears and curled hair. I certainly couldn’t settle for the inferior Black Cheeky Dog. Yuck. After the Great Financial Lecture, my dad was certainly not about to drop significantly more than the average Webkinz price on a single Webkinz. It would go against everything he preached to me.
So, I never got my Brown Cheeky Dog.
Years passed. Physically, I had moved on to high school and college, but mentally, I had not moved past the BCDW (Brown Cheeky Dog Webkinz). As I got older, the concept of the BCDW morphed from a simple and silly childhood desire into a rite of passage to adulthood. The BCDW would be the defining piece of my Webkinz collection, elevating me not only from Novice Webkinz Acquirer to Expert Adult Collector, but also to Adult Life Expert. Owning the BCDW, the thing I wanted most as a kid and never had, would satisfy all nostalgic childhood needs and mean that I had achieved success in life.
So, about a year ago, I finished my summer with a bank account fuller than I had ever seen it. I knew what to do…
I found a listing for the BCDW on eBay and didn’t hesitate to hit that “Buy Now” button. You can’t put a price tag on satisfying childhood dreams. To this day, it is the best $200 I ever spent.