Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to have acquired a collection of flat, circular objects from a purveyor named "Junkin," a name which does not inspire confidence. Apparently, these are "clocks" meant to teach the tiny, loud humans about time. This is a patently absurd concept. Any creature of refinement understands time not by staring at numbers on a board, but by the subtle shift of a sunbeam across a favored rug, the specific pitch of a can opener, and the internal, infallible instinct that declares it is precisely time for a nap. While the laminated surface might resist a casual clawing, the cardboard construction is an insult to felines everywhere. It lacks the satisfying shred-ability of a proper box and possesses none of the dynamic movement of a feather wand. It is, in essence, a solution to a problem that doesn't exist, a waste of perfectly good cardboard that could have been used for something important, like lining a napping spot.
Key Features
- Package Includes: you will get 1 piece of large demonstration teaching time clock, come with 24 pieces of teaching clocks, 25 pieces in total; Sufficient quantity meet various learning uses and replacements
- Size Information: the large educational clock measures 25 x 25 cm/ 10 x 10 inch, suitable for demonstration, and the small one is about 11.5 x 11.5 cm/ 4.5 x 4.5 inch, proper size is convenient for students to hold and use
- Sturdy Material: the teach time kids clock adopts reliable cardboard material, the large one is thicker, convenient to teach, stable and reliable, won't tear and fade easily, can be applied for a long time, help students learn to distinguish how to read clock time and digital time
- Erasable and Reusable: adopting quality laminated, the practice clock for learning time is easy to wipe, make it easy for students to read and understand, develop basic Math skills as they add, subtract and count minutes and hours; What's more, the hour and minute hands can turn to allow the child to mark the time
- Practical Gifts: the kids clock learning to tell time can be applied as a practical gift for students, children, family members, classmates and more, proper for summer vacation or birthday, kids can learn time whenever they want, at school, home or other activities
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The box arrived, as they always do, with a whisper of promise. I watched from my perch on the sofa arm as The Human sliced it open. My mind raced with possibilities—a self-warming bed? A crinkle-tunnel of epic proportions? My hopes were dashed as she pulled out not one, but twenty-five flat, offensively cheerful discs. She set the largest one on a small stand and scattered the smaller ones on the floor, babbling about "learning" and "schedules." Then, she had the audacity to leave the room, abandoning this so-called "classroom." An abandoned classroom requires a new professor. I am, of course, overqualified for the position. I leapt silently to the floor and approached the largest clock, which stood precariously on its little easel. With a single, well-aimed swat, I sent it clattering to the rug. It landed face-up, a perfect, circular stage. I then turned my attention to the smaller clocks, the "students." They were flimsy and unsatisfying to bat, skittering across the hardwood with a cheap, plastic sound. Still, they were my subjects. One by one, I herded them with my paws, nudging them into a semi-circle before my new throne. Seating myself upon the center of the large demonstration clock, I began my lecture. My tail gave a slow, authoritative sweep. I purred deeply, a low rumble to command their attention, explaining the First Great Law of Time: it is fluid, stretching to infinity during the wait for dinner and compressing into a single, glorious second when a treat is presented. I followed with a sharp "mrrrow!" to punctuate the Second Law: all hands on all clocks should point perpetually to "Now," with a secondary indicator for "Sooner, If You Please." My pupils, being inanimate objects, were impeccably behaved. When The Human returned, she stopped dead in the doorway. She saw me, a majestic gray-and-white figure of academia, holding court over my cardboard disciples. A strange choking sound escaped her, which I have come to recognize as laughter. She completely missed the profound pedagogical moment, of course, scooping me up and murmuring something about being a "silly boy." She is unteachable. The clocks, I have concluded, are worthless as toys and ineffective as teaching aids for inferior species. They do, however, make for a surprisingly adequate, if temporary, royal dais. A one-star product, but a five-star platform for intellectual discourse.
