Pete's Expert Summary
So, the Human has acquired a "squishy diary." From what I can gather, it's a book of blank paper—a tragic waste of perfectly good napping surface—wrapped in a puffy, pink cover featuring that mouthless cartoon caricature of a cat. The primary appeal, they seem to think, is poking and squeezing this cover. While the tactile sensation of a good squish could, theoretically, be a pleasant diversion between meals, the true prize here is clearly the accompanying pen. A slender, rollable object with a cartoon bauble on the end? That's a first-rate "knock off the desk" toy. The book itself is merely the inconvenient packaging for the real entertainment.
Key Features
- Fun to poke & squish: squeeze your colorful Hello Kitty diary Of squishiness as you open and reveal 60 blank pages ready to be filled with your unique thoughts
- Create, personalize & decorate: customize your diary with cool stickers that enhance your special notes, doodles, fun sayings and more
- Encourage creative writing: write down stories about Hello kitty’s latest adventure, poems about your best friends and more
- Great gift: an ideal gift for any creative writer, organizer or memory keeper.
- Kit includes: Hello Kitty smooshy diary, stickers, special Hello Kitty pen
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The object appeared one afternoon, a flash of lurid pink on the small human’s desk. She called it a diary, and for a while, she performed a strange ritual, tapping a small plastic stick onto its pages, leaving behind thin black trails. I watched from my perch on the windowsill, unimpressed. The book’s cover, however, pulsed with a weird energy. It was puffy and soft, adorned with the face of a vapid, bow-wearing creature that vaguely resembled my noble species. I decided this was some sort of idol, and the human was its lone worshiper. When the human finally abandoned her strange devotions for a snack, I leaped silently onto the desk to investigate. The idol did not react. I extended a single, perfect claw and gave the puffy face a tentative poke. It yielded with a sigh, a slow, doughy depression forming under my claw before it gradually rose again. Intriguing. This was not the firm resistance of a worthy adversary, but the soft compliance of a supplicant. I placed both paws upon it and began to knead, my rhythm a perfect, practiced motion. I was marking this strange idol as my territory, asserting my dominance. It felt… surprisingly pleasant. My territorial ceremony complete, I turned my attention to the stick—the "pen." It lay abandoned beside the idol. This, I understood. This was a classic toy. A nudge with my nose sent it rolling. A swift bat of my paw sent it skittering across the smooth surface of the desk. It was light, fast, and delightfully unpredictable. It careened off a stack of papers and came to rest on the floor with a satisfying clatter. The small human would have to retrieve it later, a fitting tribute to my hunting prowess. In the end, I have rendered my verdict. The pink idol, the "smooshy diary," is a serviceable, if somewhat gaudy, kneading cushion. It offers a unique tactile feedback that is acceptable for pre-nap rituals. But its true value is as a pedestal for its far superior companion. The pen is a toy of exquisite quality, and for that reason alone, this entire strange package is deemed worthy of my presence. The idol may have the human's worship, but the pen has my attention, and we all know which is more valuable.
