My fabulous crit partner Dee Davisand her family gave C a Build a Bear gift certificate for Christmas, and we finally used it yesterday.

Off we went to the mall, and C was sooooo excited! We'd never been to BaB before, and it was great fun, watching C carefully examine each of the animals lining the wall (for those of you who are not familiar with BaB, the bear – or dog or cat or Elmo or whatever – you choose is just a limp shell of a toy. Then you go to stations to finish out the toy). She settled on a white bear that she named Emma. The second she saw Emma, she knew she was the one. Being a careful mom, I wanted to make sure, so I pointed out a cat, Elmo, and a cute little dog that came with a puppy. But no, C knew what she wanted, and Emma it was.

No problem. We moved on to the next station. Or, rather, we moved to the line to wait for the next station.

And that was where my little girl really surprised me. She waited patiently for our turn, playing a bit with her Emma-shell and saying that Emma was going to be clothed in pink ballet slippers (which I hoped the store actually sold. They do. I'm pretty sure they sell everything, actually).

OK, here's a mommy confession: we skipped station number 2, where you pick out a sound for your bear. Nope. Got enough talking toys. Instead, we went to the stuffing station. First C picked out a heart for her bear (and, again, she knew exactly what she wanted: the solid red hard that had "I love you" printed on it, with "the words down, Mommy." No problem.). Then she handed the bear and the heart to the girl working the stuffing machine. The girl had C kiss the heart, warm it up, and make a wish. Then into the bear the heart went, followed by the stuffing, blown in at the speed of my little girl stepping on the pedal.

Next to the bath to get rid of the extra fluffies (an air bath, to be exact). Then to the dressing area, where the ballerina gown and shoes were put on. And then to the checkout, where we received Emma's birth certificate.

All in all, a lovely day, a lovely toy, and a lovely memory.

After that, we went to the little playhouse in the mall where the kids can burn off energy and exhausted mommies and daddies can sit and stare and try to recover from taking their kids to the mall.

C has been twice before (what can I say? I'm not a big mall-goer these days). The first time, she didn't interact. Just sort of staked her territory. She was much younger then, not the sophisticated 3.5 that she is now. No, this trip, she bonded with a little girl and they played chase. Soon, a little boy joined them, playing monster to the girls' damsels in distress. And all I could think was that my little girl was growing up. Soon, boys would be chasing her for more than playing monster. And, soon (to the horror of my husband), she'll probably be chasing boys.

There are a lot of good guys out there. I know that. Heck, I make my living off of it, because isn't the heart of romance writing all about finding the good guys? But I also know there are a lot of duds out there (believe me; I've dated a few). And I got to thinking: Isn't it too bad there isn't a Build-A-Boy store in the mall?

My then-grown(ish) daughter could just head to BaB and look at the models on the wall. If Emma is any indication, she'll give them all a once-over, but there will be one that fully and completely grabs her attention. She can even pick out what she wants him to say (how fabulous she looks, how he'd love to take her to a chick flick), stuff him so that he's nicely built, just the way she likes him. And, most important, she can pick out his heart. And, yeah, his heart will really and truly belong to her.

It's not a bad fantasy, but it's not likely to come true.

I guess the most I can do is help her grow up the best she can and hope that, even though she can't actually build a boy, when it gets right down to it, she picks the best one from the wall.