Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with a collection of brightly colored, oversized plastic bricks masquerading as construction equipment. Apparently, these "LEGO DUPLO" contraptions are meant for the intellectual stimulation of creatures with far less developed motor skills than my own. While the idea of a truck that tips and a digger that rotates holds a flicker of potential for batting and swatting, the fact that they are "push-along" suggests they require far too much manual effort from a feline of my station. The one redeeming feature might be the hollow boulder, which, if my human possessed any sense, would be immediately repurposed as a dispenser for high-quality salmon-flavored crunchies. Otherwise, it’s just more clutter to navigate on my way to the food bowl.
Key Features
- Features a push-along truck with a tip function, a push-along toy excavator with a rotating digger, and a boulder that kids can open up
- Includes 2 contemporary worker figures so preschoolers ages 2+ years old can act out construction site stories with this construction vehicle toy set
- Construction site toy set with vehicles and workers assists 2+ year old toddlers in developing fine motor skills
- Combine with LEGO DUPLO 10930 Bulldozer to extend the fun!
- LEGO DUPLO playsets are designed to entertain, stimulate and inspire the minds of preschoolers with familiar scenes and fun characters
A Tale from Pete the Cat
It arrived in a box adorned with the beaming face of a small, drooling human. My own human seemed unduly excited, scattering the loud, plastic pieces across my favorite sunning spot on the rug. A bright yellow excavator and a blue truck took shape, piloted by two stiff-looking figures in hard hats. The entire scene was an affront to taste and aesthetics. I watched from the dignified remove of the sofa arm, tail twitching in irritation as my human made "vroom vroom" noises and demonstrated the truck's ability to dump a single, oversized plastic rock. It was, I concluded, the single most moronic display I had witnessed all week. Later, after the human had abandoned the garish tableau for some lesser task like "work," the silence drew me in. I descended from my perch, my paws silent on the rug. The little men were the first to go, swatted into the dark abyss beneath the television stand with a satisfying flick. My attention then turned to the excavator. I gave its rotating arm a tentative pat. It swung around, light and responsive. Another pat. It spun. I could work with this. It wasn't a feather wand, but it had a certain mechanical charm. My investigation led me to the primary-colored boulder. It felt cheap and hollow. Recalling the human's clumsy demonstration, I nudged it with my nose, then hooked a claw into the seam. With a dull *click*, it popped open, revealing an empty, cavernous interior. The disappointment was a physical blow. What was the point of a container with nothing to contain? It was an existential insult in plastic form. I sat back on my haunches, utterly disgusted by the sheer pointlessness of it all. Just then, my human re-entered, holding my bag of freeze-dried minnows. An idea, brilliant and pure, sparked in my magnificent brain. I looked at the open boulder. I looked at the bag of treats. I looked directly into my human's eyes and let out a single, commanding "Mrow." The simple-minded creature blinked, then a slow smile spread across their face. They understood. One by one, three perfect minnows were placed inside the boulder-half. It was no longer a toy. It was a chalice. I had conquered this plastic wasteland and bent it to my will, transforming a toddler's bauble into a treasure chest fit for a king. The truck, I decided, would make an excellent vessel for pushing my new chalice around.
