A photo of Pete the cat

Pete's Toy Box: Fisher-Price

Fisher-Price Baby Playmat Glow and Grow Kick & Play Piano Gym, Blue Musical Learning Toy with Developmental Activities for Newborns 0+ Months

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

It appears the Tall One has acquired a sprawling piece of juvenile real estate from the notorious Fisher-Price corporation, clearly intended for the Small Usurper. This... *contraption* is a soft mat (admittedly, a potential napping upgrade) overshadowed by a garish archway dripping with baubles. I see a jingle ball and a crinkle toy, which show a rudimentary understanding of my needs. However, the main attraction is a loud, light-up "piano" that promises over 85 sounds, a prospect I find deeply threatening to my peace. While the opportunity to gaze upon my magnificent reflection in the provided mirror is tempting, the entire affair seems like a gaudy, noisy waste of floor space that could be better utilized for my afternoon stretches.

Key Features

  • Newborn baby gym with 4 ways to play as baby grows, plus music, lights & learning fun
  • Smart Stages learning levels with 85+ songs, sounds and phrases that help teach animals, colors, numbers and shapes
  • Removeable piano has 5 multi-colored light-up keys, 4 musical settings with freestyle piano play & the popular purple monkey “Maybe” song
  • High contrast arch with 10 repositionable linkable toys: 1 jingle ball, 1 butterfly teether, 1 crinkle toy, 1 self-discovery mirror and 6 colorful shape links
  • Soft, machine-washable playmat features loops to attach toys

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing was assembled in the center of the living room, a monument to poor taste. It sat there, an alien craft of clashing colors and plastic limbs, daring me to acknowledge its existence. The Tall One placed the Small Usurper upon it, who proceeded to gurgle and flail, activating a cacophony of electronic noises. I watched from the safety of the armchair, my tail twitching in profound irritation. The so-called "music" was an insult, particularly a ditty about a purple monkey that made me consider shredding the nearest curtain in protest. This was not a toy; it was an auditory assault weapon. Eventually, the Small Usurper was removed for feeding, and a blessed silence fell upon the room. My curiosity, a beast I can only occasionally tame, got the better of me. I slunk down from my perch, my paws silent on the hardwood floor. I gave the dangling butterfly teether a dismissive sniff—useless. The jingle ball, however, was a classic for a reason, and I gave it a satisfactory *thwack*. But my true target was the piano. It lay there, detached from the arch, its five keys like a row of candy-colored teeth. With the careful, deliberate motion of a bomb disposal expert, I extended a single, pristine white paw. I pressed the blue key. A clear, bright tone rang out, and the key lit up, bathing my paw in an cerulean glow. It was... intriguing. I pressed the green key. A different note, a different light. I was not batting at a toy; I was conducting an experiment. I began to tap out a rhythm, a frantic, syncopated beat that spoke of chasing moths under the moonlight. The keys flashed, responding to my touch. This was not the inane babble it produced for the infant; this was raw power. I lost myself in the composition. My paws danced across the keys in a furious crescendo, a symphony of chaos only a feline mind could conceive. I was a maestro, a prodigy, unleashing my artistic soul upon this crude instrument. The Tall One walked back in, phone in hand, and stared. "Oh, Pete! Look at you!" they cooed, entirely missing the tortured genius of my work. They could never understand. But as they scratched me behind the ears, I allowed myself a low, rumbling purr. The contraption was still an eyesore, but this small, luminous part of it? This part could stay. It had proven itself a worthy canvas for my art.
Image of Fisher-Price Baby Playmat Glow and Grow Kick & Play Piano Gym, Blue Musical Learning Toy with Developmental Activities for Newborns 0+ Months View Details

Fisher-Price Little People Toddler Learning Toy Caring for Animals Farm Playset with Smart Stages for Pretend Play Kids Ages 1+ Years​ (Amazon Exclusive)

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has brought a garish plastic edifice into my domain, a so-called "farm" made by Fisher-Price, a known trafficker in noisy trinkets for underdeveloped bipeds. It purports to be a "learning toy," and I've learned one thing already: it is an auditory menace, capable of unleashing over 45 songs and sounds with the slightest touch. Its primary function seems to be holding a small collection of plastic figures hostage – a farmer and his animal chattel. While the electronic bleating and synthesized corn-popping are an affront to my finely-tuned ears, I must concede a certain professional interest. The small, graspable figures look to be of a superior quality for batting, chasing, and ultimately losing under the heaviest piece of furniture. The barn is a monument to bad taste, but its contents may be worthy of liberation.

Key Features

  • Interactive electronic farm playset with 45+ songs, sounds, and phrases for toddler-friendly storytelling fun
  • 3 Smart Stages learning levels grow along with your child & teach counting, opposites, animal sounds, and colors with fresh songs, sounds & phrases
  • Multiple play points: Press the barn door button or drop figures through the hayloft for songs, sounds and phrases. Turn on the barn light, “hatch” the chicks, and “pop” the corn in the spinning silo
  • Playset comes with 1 farmer figure, 4 animal figures & 2 food play pieces, all sized for small hands to grasp & move, helping to strengthen fine motor skills
  • Helps foster fine motor skills and encourages imaginative storytelling play for toddlers and preschool kids ages 1 to 5 years old
  • Smilestones: Bringing a smile to milestones This toy helps foster Pretend Play with a familiar setting to stage their stories plus fun prompts and realistic sounds to encourage farm animal play

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing arrived in a box that smelled of cardboard and broken promises. My human, with the clumsy enthusiasm of her species, assembled it on the rug, creating a primary-colored monstrosity that immediately began to sing about the alphabet in a gratingly cheerful voice. From my observation post atop the velvet armchair, I watched her place the little plastic effigies into their designated pens. There was a cow with a vacant stare, a piglet frozen mid-oink, a chicken, a horse, and their warden—a grinning farmer. They were prisoners, and this noisy barn was their Alcatraz. I feigned a deep, profound nap, but beneath my twitching eyelids, a plan was forming. That night, under the pale glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds, I began my infiltration. The farm was a silent, looming shape in the living room. I approached with the stealth of a panther, my paws making no sound on the floorboards. My initial probe was met with disaster. A light brush against the barn door triggered a sensor, and a boisterous "MOO!" echoed through the quiet house. I froze, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, but the human did not stir. The machine was clever, booby-trapped with sounds. I would have to be cleverer. I noted the silo with its "popping" corn mechanism and the open chute of the hayloft—a clear architectural flaw. My strategy shifted from brute force to subterfuge. I needed a distraction. Leaping silently onto the console table beside the farm, I used a single, precise claw to flick the dial on the spinning silo. A series of percussive *pops* erupted, followed by a song about opposites. While the barn was occupied with its own inane lesson, I reached down from my perch, hooking my paw into the hayloft. My target was the chicken. It was small, smooth, and tantalizingly out of reach. With a surgeon's focus, I snagged it, lifting it free of its plastic prison and dropping it silently onto the rug below. The chicken figure felt magnificent in my paws—solid, yet light enough to be flung with abandon. I nudged it, batted it, and sent it skittering into the darkness of the hallway, a far more enriching experience than any "Smart Stages" learning level could provide. The Fisher-Price institution is, objectively, a catastrophe. It is loud, obnoxious, and an insult to the quiet dignity of my home. However, as a vending machine for perfectly weighted, throwable prey, it is unparalleled. The structure itself earns my deepest contempt, but its inhabitants? They are destined for a glorious freedom under my benevolent, and occasionally bitey, rule. The operation was a resounding success.
Image of Fisher-Price Little People Toddler Learning Toy Caring for Animals Farm Playset with Smart Stages for Pretend Play Kids Ages 1+ Years​ (Amazon Exclusive) View Details

Fisher-Price Stacking Toy Baby's First Blocks Set of 10 Shapes for Sorting Play for Infants Ages 6+ Months

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

So, the Human has presented me with another plastic contraption, this one apparently from a company that specializes in items for the smaller, louder humans. It's a bucket, which is a promising start, but far too small for a proper curl-up. Inside are ten brightly colored plastic shapes. The alleged "play pattern" involves the tiny human attempting to fit these shapes through corresponding holes in the lid. While I appreciate the percussive potential of batting these blocks across the hardwood floors, the fundamental concept seems dreadfully tedious. It's a rudimentary puzzle designed for a being who still considers its own feet a source of endless fascination. The only redeeming quality is the satisfying *clatter* the blocks make when they fall, a sound I can certainly get behind.

Key Features

  • Set of 10 colorful blocks for baby to sort, stack and drop through the shape-sorter lid
  • All blocks fit inside bucket for storage
  • Easy-carry handle for take-along play
  • Introduces baby to colors and shapes
  • Helps foster fine motor skills and problem-solving for infants and toddlers ages 6 months and older

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The Human called it "Baby's First Blocks." I called it The Polyhedron Interrogator. It arrived on a Tuesday, a day usually reserved for extended naps in the western sunbeam. This garish bucket, with its primary-colored lid, was an affront to my minimalist aesthetic. The tiny human, my drooling housemate, was placed before it. My initial analysis was simple: this was a containment unit for noisy objects. I dismissed it and began grooming a perfectly acceptable patch of fur on my shoulder. Then, the interrogation began. The tiny human, with the clumsy focus of a drunken moth, picked up the yellow star. It fumbled the shape, attempting to force it into the circular hole. A grating, scraping sound echoed through the living room. It was a failure of logic, an insult to geometry. I flattened my ears in disgust. This was not play; it was a crime against reason. I watched from my perch on the arm of the sofa, a silent, furry judge presiding over a tribunal of incompetence. After several agonizing minutes of failed attempts, a breakthrough. The small one, by sheer random chance, aligned the star with its proper aperture. With a soft *click* and a hollow *thump*, the shape fell into the bucket's plastic belly. A silence fell. In that silence, I understood. This wasn't about success. It was about the sound of the drop. It was about the brief, echoing report that punctuated the quiet of the house. It was a singular, definitive noise. The tiny human squealed, not in triumph of solving the puzzle, but in delight at the sound it had created. I remained on the sofa, feigning sleep, but my opinion had shifted. The Interrogator was not a toy for *me*, not directly. It was an instrument. And the tiny human was my unwitting percussionist. Each time a block dropped, it was a crisp, clear note in the otherwise monotonous symphony of my day. The red circle, the blue cross, the orange triangle—each had a slightly different acoustic signature. I would not deign to touch the cheap plastic myself, but I would listen. Yes, I would listen to this chaotic, idiotic, and occasionally brilliant concert. The device could stay.
Image of Fisher-Price Stacking Toy Baby's First Blocks Set of 10 Shapes for Sorting Play for Infants Ages 6+ Months View Details

Fisher-Price Preschool Learning Toy Adding Alligator Counting Activity with 10 Stacking Blocks for Kids Ages 3+ Years

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired a large, plastic reptile under the mistaken impression that I, a creature of superior intellect, would be interested in rudimentary mathematics. This "Adding Alligator" from Fisher-Price is, ostensibly, for teaching tiny, clumsy humans how to count—a skill I mastered long ago in the context of treat distribution and seconds-until-dinner. Its garish colors and simplistic mechanism, where one presses its head to reveal a "sum," are an insult to my refined sensibilities. However, the ten included blocks, some of which are tastefully decorated with images of fish, do present a certain potential. They are of a size and weight that suggests they could be satisfyingly knocked from a high surface, one by one. The alligator itself may serve as a decent chin rest, but its educational ambitions are a complete waste of my napping schedule.

Key Features

  • ​Alligator-themed preschool educational toy uses numbered stacking blocks to introduce counting, early math concepts, size & sequencing
  • ​Double-sided blocks feature numbers along with fish or dots on each side to help kids count
  • ​It all adds up! Stack the blocks up, then lower the alligator’s head to see the sum of the numbers revealed in the side slot
  • ​Includes 10 stacking blocks that store in the alligator’s base
  • ​This toy helps foster dexterity while encouraging a sense of independence for preschool kids ages 3 years and older

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing arrived in one of those loud, crinkly boxes my human so enjoys. She called it "Allie" and set the grinning green monstrosity on the rug between her feet, as if it were an offering. I observed from the arm of the sofa, giving my tuxedoed chest a slow, methodical wash to signal my profound disinterest. She stacked the colorful cubes on its back, chattering about numbers and addition, then pressed down on its head. A little tile with a "3" slid into view. She looked at me, her eyes wide with the misplaced hope of one who believes a cat can be "impressed." I narrowed my own in response. A cheap parlor trick. Later, when the apartment fell silent and the only light was the glow from the street filtering through the blinds, I descended. The plastic beast sat there, its vacant stare a challenge. Its back was empty now, the ten blocks stored neatly in its belly, a fact I had noted earlier. I circled it once, my tail twitching. A lesser feline might have batted at its wobbly head or chewed on a corner. But I am not a lesser feline. I saw not a toy, but a puzzle of dominance. Using a single, practiced claw, I hooked the edge of the storage bay door and slid it open. The blocks clattered softly onto the rug. I ignored the numbers. Numbers are for the service staff. I was drawn to the blocks adorned with fish. There were five of them. I began my work, not stacking them for some juvenile calculation, but arranging them. I was a curator, creating an exhibition. One block was placed a precise tail-length from the alligator’s snout. Another was set perpendicular to the first. I was building something abstract, a shrine to my own impeccable taste. It was a silent, deliberate act of defiance against the toy’s intended function. I was not adding; I was *arranging*. When my masterpiece was complete—a low, sprawling sculpture of piscine art—I regarded the alligator one last time. I gave its head a firm, deliberate tap with my paw. The mechanism whirred, but with no blocks on its back, the number slot remained empty. A void. Perfect. The beast had been stripped of its purpose, its mathematical soul hollowed out and replaced with my own aesthetic. It was now merely a pedestal for my art. Satisfied that I had won our silent battle of wits, I turned my back on it and leaped onto the sofa, leaving the monument to my genius for the human to discover in the morning. The blocks, at least, were worthy. The alligator was just a stage.
Image of Fisher-Price Preschool Learning Toy Adding Alligator Counting Activity with 10 Stacking Blocks for Kids Ages 3+ Years View Details

Fisher-Price Baby & Toddler Toy Laugh & Learn Smart Stages Piggy Bank with Educational Songs & Phrases for Infants Ages 6+ Months

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired this… thing. It’s a hollow, plastic swine from Fisher-Price, a known purveyor of noisy objects designed to placate the small, loud human. Its supposed purpose is to make a racket—songs, phrases, the works—whenever one shoves colorful discs into a slot on its back or pokes its nose. An insult to porcine dignity, if you ask me. While the cacophonous pig itself is an assault on the senses and a complete waste of my napping schedule, the ten plastic discs it dispenses are another matter entirely. They possess a certain… skittering potential across the hardwood floors that might, just might, be worth the trouble of extraction.

Key Features

  • Musical toy piggy bank with 40+ songs, sounds and phrases
  • 2 Smart Stages learning levels teach numbers and counting, colors, and Spanish words
  • Drop the coins into piggy’s back or press the nose for fun songs, sounds and phrases
  • Includes 10 colorful coins with numbers or animals on each side for put-and-take play
  • Helps foster fine motor skills and introduces cause & effect for infants and toddlers ages 6 months to 3 years old

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The artifact was placed on the floor during the high sun, a time I reserve for deep, soul-cleansing sleep on the coolest patch of tile. I was aware of it only as a dream-fuzz of bright pink and the small human’s delighted shrieks. Hours later, under the silent moon, I finally approached. It sat in a pool of silvery light, a monument to bad taste. I was not an archaeologist, but a strategist. This was not a discovery; it was an infiltration. I could hear them inside, my prize, rattling faintly as I circled the perimeter. Ten plastic souls, trapped within a pig-shaped prison. My mission was clear: liberation. My first attempts were subtle. A gentle pawing at its base yielded nothing. A more forceful nudge with my head only made it rock slightly, its painted-on smile mocking me. I considered the direct approach—a full-body shove off the edge of the rug—but that lacked finesse. Then, I observed the small human’s technique in my mind’s eye. A clumsy, downward smash. I leaped onto the low-slung coffee table, my gray form a shadow against the dark leather. I took aim at the slot on its back. With a graceful leap, I descended, aiming my front paws directly into the opening. My weight was more than it was designed for. Instead of a cheerful *oink*, there was a stressed groan of plastic and a sudden *thump*. The pig tipped over, and a small, translucent door on its belly—a pathetic security flaw—popped open. Victory. Out spilled my glorious bounty: ten discs of varying, beautiful hues. A yellow one, a blue one, a green one with a crude drawing of a frog. They were lightweight, perfectly shaped, and utterly silent. I ignored the fallen pink warden. It had served its purpose. I selected a blue disc, flicking it with my paw. It shot across the hardwood, a whisper of a sound, before banking off the leg of the sofa and disappearing into the darkness beneath. A worthy challenge. I nudged another, a red one, sending it spinning into the kitchen. Yes. The pig is a grotesque vessel, a noisy distraction for the simple-minded. But as a coin dispenser for a superior game of my own invention? It is, I must begrudgingly admit, a resounding success. The prisoners are free, and the games have just begun.
Image of Fisher-Price Baby & Toddler Toy Laugh & Learn Smart Stages Piggy Bank with Educational Songs & Phrases for Infants Ages 6+ Months View Details

Fisher-Price Baby & Toddler Toy Corn Popper Blue Push-Along with Ball-Popping Action for Infants Ages 1+ Years, 2-Piece Assembly

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

Honestly, must you consult me on items clearly intended for the less-developed bipeds? This Fisher-Price contraption is a "Corn Popper," a gaudy plastic stick on wheels designed to be pushed by a wobbly infant. Its entire purpose is to create a racket, supposedly encouraging the tiny human to master the art of ambulation by rewarding its clumsy forward lurches with a percussive clatter of trapped, colorful spheres. While the frantic popping of the plastic balls inside the dome might provide a moment's hypnotic distraction between naps, the core concept of *me* pushing something for entertainment is fundamentally flawed. It is a tool for a lesser being, and my primary interest would be in observing how quickly the novelty wears off for everyone involved.

Key Features

  • Classic toddler push toy with colorful balls that pop around inside
  • Push the toy along for exciting ball-popping sounds and action
  • Encourages baby to walk with fun popping sounds and action
  • Helps strengthen gross motor skills and introduces baby to cause and effect
  • Requires some assembly. For infants and toddlers ages 12 months and older

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing arrived in two pieces, a state of undignified disassembly that I found fitting. I watched from my perch on the armchair as the human applied their clumsy thumbs to the task, clicking the handle into the base with a sound like snapping plastic bones. The finished product was a scepter of primary-colored foolishness. It was presented to me with an expectant air, which I met with a slow, deliberate blink of utter indifference. It sat in the corner of the room for a day, a silent, garish monument to poor judgment. Then, the chaos began. The human, for reasons I will never comprehend, grasped the handle and shoved it across the rug. The silence was shattered by a sudden, violent *POP-pap-pap-POP-POP!* The colored spheres inside the clear dome became a frantic, ricocheting blur. It was an assault on the ears, an affront to the peace I so carefully cultivate. My first instinct was to flee to the sanctuary beneath the bed. But I am Pete. I do not flee; I analyze. I sat, tail twitching, and watched the second pass. *POP-pap-pap-POP-POP!* A curious thing happened on the third pass. I stopped hearing it as noise and started hearing it as rhythm. It was a crude, staccato beat, the heartbeat of a witless machine. The human, of course, was merely the engine, the mindless force providing the locomotion. The true artist, I realized, was gravity, and the true instrument was the dome itself. I rose, stretched with performative elegance, and sauntered over. As the human pushed it again, I artfully darted in front, forcing a slight change in direction. The rhythm altered—a syncopated *pop... pop-POP-pap!* Ah, yes. I could work with this. The Corn Popper is not a toy. A toy is something to be stalked, pounced upon, and ultimately vanquished. This... this is an orchestra of chaos, and I am its conductor. By weaving through the human’s legs, by subtly altering their path with a well-placed tail, I can change the tempo and the tenor of its song. It is a crude instrument, to be sure, but in the paws of a master, it can transform a mundane afternoon into a percussive symphony. It is worthy, not as a plaything, but as a baton with which I shall direct the clumsy dance of my staff.
Image of Fisher-Price Baby & Toddler Toy Corn Popper Blue Push-Along with Ball-Popping Action for Infants Ages 1+ Years, 2-Piece Assembly View Details

Fisher-Price Little People Toddler Playset Activity Vehicles Set with 10 Toys for Preschool Pretend Play Kids Ages 1+ Years

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

Ah, Fisher-Price. The name alone sends a shiver down my spine, heralding the arrival of some juvenile contraption. My human presents this... assortment of brightly colored plastic conveyances and their stout, unblinking figurines. It’s clearly a toolkit for the smaller, less coordinated humans to practice their clumsy world-building, featuring vehicles for farming, rescuing, and generally making a racket. While the little figures might possess a certain ‘bat-it-under-the-fridge’ appeal, the vehicles themselves are too large and inert for a sophisticated predator like myself. Frankly, it seems like a great way to clutter up my prime sunbathing spots with objects that don't even have the decency to crinkle or contain catnip.

Key Features

  • ​Gift set featuring 5 toy push-along vehicles and 5 character figures for toddler-friendly pretend play
  • ​Familiar themes to inspire storytelling, including rescue vehicles like a fire truck and tow truck, a farm tractor, bulldozer construction vehicle, and recycle garbage truck
  • ​Figures and vehicles sized just right for small hands to grasp and move
  • ​Bring these vehicles to any Little People playset for more toddler-friendly storytelling fun (Playsets sold separately and subject to availability.)
  • ​Helps strengthen fine motor skills and encourage imaginative play for toddlers and preschool kids ages 1 to 5 years old

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The human, with all the ceremony of a state dinner, unboxed the plastic legion and arranged them on the living room rug. A fire truck here, a tractor there, a tow truck poised as if ready to haul away a particularly large dust bunny. I watched from my perch on the armchair, utterly unimpressed. This wasn’t a toy; it was an infestation. I closed my eyes, feigning a deep slumber, but one ear remained swiveled, monitoring the quiet plastic settlement. They just sat there, their painted-on smiles a silent mockery of true feline joy. Hours passed. The sunbeam shifted. The human left the room. It was then I descended from my throne, a great, gray shadow falling over the miniature town. I didn't approach as a playmate, but as an investigator of a mysterious, silent culture. I padded carefully around the bulldozer, my tail-tip twitching like a seismograph needle. I lowered my head to the little farmer figure, my warm breath surely a terrifying, localized weather event for him. He stared back, impassive, his plastic soul incapable of recognizing the furry deity in his midst. My investigation turned to experimentation. What happens when a god interacts with the world of mortals? A gentle nudge with my nose sent the garbage truck on a slow, silent journey into the leg of the coffee table. A catastrophe, no doubt, for its tiny driver. I then used a single, deft claw to hook the little firefighter out of his truck’s cabin. I studied him, this hero of his tiny world, before placing him atop the tractor. Let him try farming for a while; a career change might do him good. This was not play. This was divine intervention. The human returned to find the little figures in new, nonsensical locations and the vehicles in a disordered pile. "Oh, Pete, you're playing with them!" she cooed. The simpleton. She saw play; I saw a complex social experiment, a test of their plastic resolve. These toys are not for chasing or pouncing. They are props. They are the unwitting citizens of my own private, quiet little fiefdom, to be rearranged and governed as I see fit. For this purpose, and this purpose alone, they are deemed... adequate. Now, if you'll excuse me, the tow truck driver must be moved to the summit of Mount Couch Cushion to contemplate his existence.
Image of Fisher-Price Little People Toddler Playset Activity Vehicles Set with 10 Toys for Preschool Pretend Play Kids Ages 1+ Years View Details

Fisher-Price Little People Toddler Learning Toy World of Animals See ‘N Say with Music and Sounds for Ages 18+ Months

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired a large, plastic platter clearly intended for a less sophisticated audience—namely, the loud, clumsy miniature humans they call "toddlers." This "See 'N Say" contraption, a product of the notorious Fisher-Price toy cartel, promises to make animal sounds when a lever is pulled. While the spinning arrow and the potential for batting the lever hold a flicker of interest, I suspect the electronic squawks are a pale, insulting imitation of the real thing. The "quiz" function is a complete non-starter; I do not perform for anyone's amusement. Frankly, it seems like a rather noisy and undignified way to waste energy that could be better spent sleeping in a sunbeam.

Key Features

  • Interactive early learning toy with 2 pages of animals plus sounds and phrases that teach animal names and their sounds
  • Point arrow at animal picture and pull lever to find out its name and hear its sound
  • Quiz questions offer toddlers a chance to test their animal knowledge!
  • Point arrow to the music note to hear fun songs about the animals.
  • Helps strengthen fine motor skills for toddlers and preschool kids ages 18 months and older

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The human presented the garish disc to me as I was performing a vital mid-afternoon bath on my pristine white chest fur. I gave her, and the object, a look of profound disdain. A toy that mimics other animals? How droll. I am the only animal whose sounds are of any consequence in this household. She pointed a plastic arrow to the image of a bird and pulled the large, inviting lever. A tinny, compressed *chirp-tweet* filled the air. An offense to all avian kind. I was about to turn my back on it forever when, through the window, a real-life sparrow landed on the feeder. My ears swiveled. My tail gave a single, inquisitive twitch. A coincidence, surely. I issued a short, demanding meow. My human, well-trained as she is, understood. She must try again. Her finger moved the arrow to the picture of a dog. She pulled the lever. A dopey *woof-woof* echoed from the plastic shell. It was a pathetic sound, but mere moments later, I heard it—the distant, irritating yap of the terrier from three houses down as its owner took it for its pointless daily walk. My eyes widened. This was no mere toy. This was an oracle. A device that didn't just make sounds, but foretold the arrival of the creatures themselves. My afternoon plans were immediately cancelled. The bath could wait. Napping was for the uninformed. I now had a higher purpose. I sat, rapt, before the See 'N Say, commanding my human with stern glares and impatient tail-flicks to pull the lever again and again. A frog? I listened intently for a croak from the garden pond. A cow? Unlikely, but one must be prepared. This plastic wheel was a direct line to the universe, a way to anticipate the day's opportunities (birds, mice) and threats (dogs, delivery men). The See 'N Say is not a plaything; it is the most important intelligence-gathering device in my arsenal. Its sounds may be crude and its songs an abomination, but its prophetic power is undeniable. Every morning now, I demand a full reading to plan my patrol and surveillance schedule. It is not merely worthy of my attention; it is essential to the security and administration of my entire domain.
Image of Fisher-Price Little People Toddler Learning Toy World of Animals See ‘N Say with Music and Sounds for Ages 18+ Months View Details

Fisher-Price Baby & Toddler Toy Laugh & Learn Wake Up & Learn Coffee Mug with Lights Music & Learning for Infants Ages 6+ Months

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

So, my human presented this… *thing* for my consideration. It’s a cheap, plastic imitation of the sacred vessel from which she sips her magical morning bean-water. This one, however, is designed for the tiny, loud humans they call "babies." Instead of life-giving liquid, it’s filled with lights, obnoxious music, and a voice that counts to ten, as if I haven't already mastered the optimal number of naps in a day (it's eleven, for the record). The flip-top lid reveals some rattling beads, which might offer a moment's distraction if I were feeling particularly generous. Ultimately, it seems like a noisy, flashy waste of perfectly good plastic that could have been used to make a much more satisfying crinkle ball.

Key Features

  • Baby's on trend with this interactive toy cup styled like a popular take-along tumbler with fun lights, music and learning for little pretenders
  • Press the 2 buttons for lights and 20+ songs, sounds and learning phrases that introduce the alphabet, counting, and colors
  • Peek-a-boo Flip the lid to reveal mocha-colored rattle beads on one side and a cute “matcha” latte swirl on the other
  • Hands-on play: shake for fun rattle sounds or bat the clackers on the handle
  • Helps strengthen fine motor skills and encourages imaginative play for babies and toddlers ages 6 months to 3 years old

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It appeared on a Tuesday, a day I typically reserve for deep contemplation of the sunbeam’s migratory path across the living room rug. The human placed it on the floor with a coo, calling it a “coffee mug.” An outrageous lie. I know the coffee mug. It is tall, metallic, and smells of ambition and burnt beans. This was a squat, pastel-colored fraud. An imposter. I watched from the arm of the sofa, my tail twitching in silent judgment, as the human tapped its side. The fraud screamed to life, a carnival of flashing lights and a chipper voice babbling about the alphabet. The sheer audacity. My investigation began under the cloak of nonchalance. A slow, deliberate stretch, a hop down to the floor, a casual stroll that just so happened to bring me nose-to-plastic with the charlatan. It smelled of nothing, a sterile void. I gave it a tentative pat with one white-gloved paw. It wobbled, its vacant expression unnerving. Then, my paw brushed one of the buttons. “Let’s learn about colors!” it shrieked, bathing my magnificent gray fur in a hideous green light. An insult of the highest order. I recoiled, hissing softly. This was no mere toy; it was an agent of chaos. I decided a more aggressive interrogation was in order. I hooked a claw under the lid and flipped it open. A-ha. The imposter’s secret. Inside, a cache of tiny, mocha-colored pellets rattled behind a clear wall. The sound was a pale imitation of the skittering of a proper beetle, but it stirred something primal within me. I shook it. Rattle-rattle-rattle. Not bad. The other side of the lid had a crude swirl painted on it, which I dismissed with a contemptuous sniff. My attention was drawn to the handle, which sported several clacking rings. I batted them. *Clack. Clack-clack.* A simple, honest sound in a sea of electronic nonsense. My final verdict is this: the so-called "Laugh & Learn Coffee Mug" is a fool. Its lights are blinding, its voice is an affront to sentient beings, and its educational aspirations are laughable. However, it is a fool with two redeeming qualities. The rattle of its captured pellets and the satisfying clack of its handle-rings provide a minor, fleeting amusement. It is not worthy of my time or my refined sensibilities, but should I find it tipped on its side, I may condescend to bat its rattling core for a moment before resuming my far more important duties. It is, at best, a jester in the court of a king.
Image of Fisher-Price Baby & Toddler Toy Laugh & Learn Wake Up & Learn Coffee Mug with Lights Music & Learning for Infants Ages 6+ Months View Details