Pete's Expert Summary
My human has brought a new oracle into the home, a soft, plush effigy of some perpetually cheerful woman named "Ms. Rachel." Apparently, its purpose is to assault the senses with songs and phrases at the slightest touch, all in the name of "educating" the smaller, drooling human. While its GUND-brand construction suggests a promising softness that might make for an adequate secondary napping pillow, the advertised "16+ Phrases & 4 Songs" are a significant cause for concern. The existence of a "Quiet/Loud" switch is its only saving grace, a feature that might, with any luck, be permanently set to "Quiet," or better yet, "Off," preventing this garish doll from becoming another noisy obstacle on my path to the food bowl.
Key Features
- OFFICIAL MS. RACHEL TOYS: Interactive touch-activated Ms. Rachel doll that plays 16+ signature phrases & 4 songs from the hit Ms. Rachel show
- SPEAK & SING WITH MS. RACHEL: Sing along to 4 songs, like "Icky Sticky Sticky Sticky Bubble Gum" & encourage your child to repeat signature Ms. Rachel phrases such as "I'm so proud of you" & "Can you say...?"
- QUIET/LOUD SWITCH: Includes a switch for sensory sensitivities, a learning card with play ideas & skill building tips. True-to-show details and baby-safe construction by GUND Baby. (Batteries Included)
- EXPERT-CREATED LEARNING TOYS: Crafted by Ms. Rachel and early learning specialists, these baby toys and toddler toys support crucial early milestones, aiding development from infancy through toddler years
- Easter Gifts for Kids: From easter basket stuffers to everyday play, Ms. Rachel kids toys include tummy time mats, rattles, baby teething toys, plushies, interactive Ms Rachel dolls, blocks, puzzles & more
- Includes: 1 Interactive Doll
- Covered by the Spin Master Care Commitment. See below for full details
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The thing arrived in a cardboard prison, from which my human extracted it with an absurd amount of ceremony. It was a plush homunculus, a caricature of a human female with wide, unblinking eyes and a smile that seemed stitched on with pure, unfiltered optimism. My human presented it to the tiny, loud one, who immediately poked its fabric hand. A horrifyingly cheerful voice burst forth, singing something about "Icky Sticky Sticky Sticky Bubble Gum." The sound was an acoustic abomination, a sonic crime against the tranquility of my afternoon. I flattened my ears and retreated to the relative safety of the armchair, watching this new horror with deep suspicion. For the next hour, the doll was a geyser of canned encouragement. "I'm so proud of you!" it chirped. Proud of what, I wondered? The small human's ability to produce startlingly loud shrieks? The doll was a font of meaningless affirmation, a jester in a court of one. I judged it immediately: a garish nuisance, a threat to the sophisticated silence I so carefully cultivate. I had already begun composing its obituary in my mind, envisioning a future where it lay face-down in a toy bin, its voice box mercifully silent. Later, a blessed quiet fell over the living room. The small human had been put down for a nap, and the doll lay abandoned on the rug, its fixed smile pointed at the ceiling. My curiosity, a trait I prefer to call 'strategic intelligence,' got the better of me. I slinked down from my perch and padded silently across the floor. The doll was, as suspected, quite soft. I gave its denim-clad leg a tentative sniff. Then, I remembered my human fiddling with a small toggle on its back. A switch. A control. An opportunity. With a deft nudge of my nose, I flipped the switch. Then, summoning my courage, I extended a single, perfect claw and lightly tapped the doll's hand. "Can you say...?" the voice whispered, now a mere shadow of its former boisterous self. It was a revelation. The beast could be tamed. The oracle could be muted. This changed everything. It was no longer a threat, but a potential asset. A large, comfortable, and now *manageably* quiet pillow. My verdict was rendered: the Ms. Rachel doll could remain, on the condition that its volume switch remains my little secret. It will serve as a plush throne from which I can silently judge the household, its cheerful face a constant, amusing reminder of my superior intellect.
