Pete's Expert Summary
So, the humans have acquired a miniature wooden shrine for their offspring, complete with a distorted mirror and various blocky implements. They call it a 'Beauty Salon.' I call it a tactical command center with an arsenal of throwable objects. The Melissa & Doug brand suggests a certain sturdiness, which is a plus – less chance of things shattering when I inevitably knock them off the table. The small drawer holds promise as a secret stash for misappropriated bottle caps, and the wooden 'lipstick' and 'nail polish' are clearly designed for being batted under the heaviest furniture. While the tiny human's 'pretend play' is a colossal waste of energy, the sheer number of loose, well-weighted components makes this a potentially worthwhile distraction... provided I can claim it first.
Key Features
- 18-piece wooden beauty salon makeup, hair, and nails pretend play set
- Wooden table-top vanity includes child-safe mirror and storage drawer
- Wooden accessories include hair dryer, hair spray, hair straightener, comb, brush, flip-top lotion bottle
- Pretend makeup pieces: lipstick, 2 nail polish bottles, blush, makeup brush, eye shadow, applicator
- Makes a great gift for preschoolers, ages 3 to 6, for hands-on, screen-free play; product made with FSC-certified materials that support responsible forestry; applies to new inventory only (FSC C156584)
A Tale from Pete the Cat
It arrived on a Thursday, a day usually reserved for extended sunbeam meditation. The box, an object of far greater initial interest, was swiftly dismantled by the larger humans, revealing the wooden thingamajig. The small human squealed, a sound that always sets my ears on edge, and began arranging the little wooden blocks on its surface. I watched from the arm of the chair, tail twitching in mild irritation. More clutter. More objects I would be scolded for "exploring." I feigned a deep, world-weary sigh and closed my eyes, but the scent of sawdust and fresh paint was too intriguing to ignore. Eventually, curiosity gnawed through my cultivated indifference. I padded over, silent as a shadow, and leaped onto the small table where the contraption now sat. The small human was gone, leaving her new treasures unattended. I sniffed at a wooden tube meant to be 'lipstick.' Useless. I nudged the 'hair dryer.' A solid, unappealing block. My gaze drifted to the mirror. It was a poor excuse for a reflective surface, warped and wavy. As I peered into it, my handsome gray and white visage rippled like a reflection in a disturbed water bowl. But then, something shifted. The distorted image coalesced not into my reflection, but into a vision. I saw myself, resplendent, seated upon a throne of freshly laundered towels. My humans stood before me, not as masters, but as subjects. The small one held the little wooden brush, her expression one of solemn reverence. The larger one proffered the wooden comb. They were my royal groomers, attending to my magnificent coat with these consecrated tools. The vision was so clear, so... correct. This wasn't a 'play set.' It was a prophecy. A coronation kit. I snapped back to reality, the mundane utility room now tinged with cosmic importance. My cynicism had been a veil, hiding the toy's true purpose. These were not mere trinkets; they were artifacts of my destiny. I ignored the lesser pieces and focused on the implement from my vision—the small, soft-bristled makeup brush. It was the perfect size. With a deft hook of my paw, I swept it from the vanity. It clattered softly on the hardwood floor. This was no toy to be idly batted. This was the Royal Implement of Fluffing. I nudged it with my nose, my first act as the true king of this domain, and gave the approaching human a look of profound expectation. The grooming may now commence.
