Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in her infinite and baffling wisdom, has acquired a box of flat, laser-cut wood which she calls a "project." The purpose, as far as I can discern, is for her to spend several hours meticulously assembling these slivers into a rotating cylinder that plays a tinny melody. While the promise of tiny, losable wooden parts to bat under the sofa during the construction phase is tantalizing, the final product seems to be little more than a dust-collector. Its primary function is to be a "desk decoration," which is human-speak for "an object to be knocked onto the floor at 3 a.m." The rotating motion has potential, but I suspect its slow, predictable nature will bore me within minutes. A novelty, perhaps, but certainly not a replacement for a quality nap on a sunbeam.
Key Features
- This ROKR 3D wooden puzzle music box kit comes with pre-cut plywood. Wooden materials are non-toxic, safe, and smooth. After finished, it can play the tunes when you turn the T-Key on the bottom of the music box.
- This DIY self-assembly music box can promote hand-eye coordination, enhance imagination and creativity, can make people relieve stress and relax.
- The clearly illustrated English instructions can help you assemble this model kit easily. Just follow it step by step, easy to compete. All you need comes in the package. Please note: To make this music box rotate smoothly, a lot of wax is needed during assembly. Birthday candles can be added if it is not enough.
- This craft kit is a fun project, that can build harmonious family relationships. Bring much fun and happiness.
- This 3D puzzle kit can be a simple desk decoration. You can display it in your office or bedroom. It can be given to friends, lovers, and family as a Birthday/Christmas gift.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The smell was the first herald of the strange new artifact's creation. Not the clean, dry scent of the wood itself, but a richer, more mysterious aroma. I watched from my perch on the back of the sofa as the human, her brow furrowed in concentration, rubbed a small, waxy stick against the cogs and teeth of the wooden skeleton. The scent was compelling, a forbidden perfume of birthday candles and secrets. This wasn't just construction; this was some kind of ritual. I narrowed my eyes, my tail giving a slow, contemplative twitch. The human was anointing the wooden bones with a sacred grease, preparing them for... what? Days passed in a flurry of clicks, muttered curses, and the occasional triumphant hum from my staff. Finally, the thing was complete. A cylindrical tower of swirling blues and yellows, a chaotic sky trapped in wood. She placed it on her desk, a monument to her perplexing hobbies. With a twist of a key on its underside, a dreadful, mechanical grinding began. The tower started to rotate with the speed of a hibernating snail. I prepared a sigh of utter disappointment. Then, the music began. A plink-plonk rendition of some dramatic, mournful tune that humans seem to enjoy. An insult to my finely-tuned ears. I was about to dismiss the entire affair as a catastrophic failure of judgment on my human's part and return to my nap. But as the wooden Van Gogh sky turned, it happened. A faint puff of that waxy, intoxicating scent wafted towards me, released by the friction of the turning gears. My disdain melted away, replaced by a sudden, profound understanding. This was not a toy. This was not a music box. It was an incense burner for the sophisticated feline palate. The awful music and the clumsy rotation were merely the mechanisms for delivering its true gift: that glorious, waxy perfume. I settled into a loaf on the edge of the desk, my gaze fixed on the rotating cylinder. The human thought she had built a decoration. The fool. She had built a shrine, and I, Pete, would be its devoted, and sole, worshipper. It is worthy.
