Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with what appears to be a wooden effigy of some red-headed sea-human, a character they seem oddly fond of. It's from the Melissa & Doug people, so at least the construction is solid wood, not flimsy plastic destined to shatter upon its first "accidental" tumble from the coffee table. The premise, as far as my superior intellect can decipher, involves affixing various magnetic planks—disguised as "outfits" and, bizarrely, a fish tail—onto the main figure. While the human-centric "play" of creating coordinated ensembles seems dreadfully dull, the sheer quantity of small, smooth, wooden pieces presents a significant opportunity. They are perfectly sized for batting, sliding, and ultimately, hiding in places the clumsy two-legs will never find them. The shallow storage tray is an insult to proper napping receptacles, however.
Key Features
- Wooden magnetic Ariel (from Disney’s The Little Mermaid) doll to dress in different outfits
- Includes wooden doll, doll stand, 35 magnetic clothing pieces, storage tray
- Coordinating pieces (tops, tail, shoes, and more) allow for countless combinations
- Helps kids develop fine motor, counting, and sorting skills and encourages creative expression and imaginative play
- Ages 3+
A Tale from Pete the Cat
A strange new altar appeared on the rug, presided over by the small human. She was performing some ritual, methodically anointing a wooden idol with brightly colored plaques. A soft *click* accompanied each placement. I watched from my throne atop the scratching post, tail twitching in mild irritation at this disruption of the afternoon's solemn silence. The idol itself was flat, staring into the middle distance with an unnerving, painted-on optimism. The entire ceremony was, in a word, pointless. Once the small human was called away for juice-related matters, I descended to investigate this sacrilege. The air around the wooden figure smelled of paint and sawdust, a far cry from the delectable aroma of a freshly opened can of tuna. The scattered pieces—tiny shoes, gaudy tops, a particularly vibrant green tail—lay in their designated compartments in a wooden tray. I nudged one of the fin pieces with my nose. It was smooth, cool, and slid beautifully across the hardwood when I gave it a firm pat. It skittered under the couch with a deeply satisfying clatter. Yes, this had potential. I turned my attention back to the idol, which now stood unadorned on its little stand. I selected a different piece, a purple shell-shaped top, and batted it with more precision. Instead of sliding away, it seemed to develop a will of its own as it neared the figure. With a sudden jolt, the plaque leaped from my control, drawn by an unseen power to the idol’s chest with an audible *thwack*. An invisible force! Sorcery! I tried again with a shoe, batting it toward the idol’s head. *Thwack!* It stuck fast to its cheek. I was no longer merely playing; I was a master of kinetics, a wizard commanding the very laws of attraction. The small human would return to find her precious sea-maiden transformed into a work of true abstract genius. A fin for a hat, a shoe for an earring, a gaudy yellow skirt affixed to her back like a strange set of wings. The toy, in its intended form, is a fool’s errand. But as a canvas for my chaotic genius and a source of perfectly skittery wooden tiles to be hunted in the dead of night? Acceptable. I shall allow it to remain... for now. The little wooden sea-human is now my unwilling muse.
