A photo of Pete the cat

Pete's Toy Box: Hasbro

Hasbro Gaming Connect 4 Classic Grid,4 in a Row Game,Strategy Board Games for Kids,2 Player .for Family and Kids,Ages 6 and Up

By: Connect 4

Pete's Expert Summary

It appears my human has acquired what can only be described as a vertical, plastic prison for brightly colored discs. The humans call it "Connect 4," a simple-minded game of patterns they seem to find endlessly fascinating. From my superior vantage point on the arm of the sofa, the "strategy" is insultingly obvious. The true value lies not in the tedious back-and-forth of the game, but in the individual components. Those smooth, round tokens are perfectly shaped for batting across the hardwood floor and, more importantly, for getting lost under the heaviest piece of furniture. The "pop-out feature" they keep mentioning sounds promising—a mechanism designed specifically for me to create glorious, clattering chaos. It might just be worth waking up for.

Key Features

  • RULE THE GRID 4 THE WIN: With this classic Connect 4 game, featuring a sleek modern style, players go head-to-head as they try to get 4 of the same color discs in a row to win
  • EXCITING STRATEGY GAME: Challenge a friend to rule the grid! Strategy drives the competition in this Connect 4 board game. Line 'em up, block opponents, and be the first to get 4 in a row to win
  • MODERN STYLE & COOL COLORS: The Connect 4 Classic Grid kids game takes the popular game one step further with a sleek style and cool colors to keep players glued to the grid
  • 3 WAYS TO PLAY: Choose classic Connect 4 gameplay, the free-for-all Connect 4 Frenzy variation, or a third option that lets players drop a disc or eject one from the bottom with the pop-out feature
  • EASY, FAST, AND FUN GAME FOR FAMILIES: Easy to learn and simple to set up, the Connect 4 Classic Grid family game for 2 players is a fast-playing favorite
  • FUN GIFTS FOR GIRLS AND BOYS: Strategy Games are excellent gifts for families or gifts for kids that love playing classic board games.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The Unboxing was, as usual, a cacophony of crinkling plastic and triumphant human noises. They erected a translucent blue wall, a strange, perforated barrier that gleamed under the lamplight. Then came the discs. Clumsy fingers fumbled with the red and yellow tokens, dropping them into the slots with loud, unsatisfying *clacks*. I watched from the shadows of the dining room table, my tail giving a slow, judgmental thump-thump-thump against the rug. They were playing a game, yes, but it was like watching two squirrels trying to solve a puzzle box designed for a toddler. They missed obvious blocks, celebrated mediocre plays, and seemed utterly oblivious to the elegant geometric inevitabilities I could see from across the room. My initial assessment was grim: another piece of colorful junk destined to gather dust. But then, the smaller human, in a fit of pique after losing, did something remarkable. Instead of sliding the bar at the bottom to release the deluge of discs, they pressed something on the side of the grid's leg. *Click*. A single yellow disc shot out from a slot at the bottom, skittering across the floor like a startled beetle. My ears, which had been flattened in annoyance, perked forward. My eyes dilated. That wasn't a game feature. That was a dispenser. A prey-launching mechanism. Later that night, long after the bipedal giants had lumbered off to their sleeping chambers, I descended from my perch. The blue grid stood silent on the coffee table, a sentinel holding its cache of delightful, kinetic potential. I leaped silently onto the table, my soft paws making no sound. I peered through the slots. Red, yellow, red, red… a meaningless jumble. I ignored the board itself and focused on the true prize: the ejection port. With the calculated precision of a seasoned hunter, I located the lever. I didn't swat wildly. I extended a single, perfect claw and applied firm, deliberate pressure. *Click*. A red disc shot out, spinning beautifully on the polished wood before coming to a rest near the leg of the couch. A masterpiece of physics. I did it again. *Click*. A yellow one joined its friend. This was not a game of four in a row. This was a sophisticated training device for honing my paw-eye coordination. The humans, in their ignorance, had brought me a tool. It was loud, it was plastic, and its intended purpose was moronic, but as a skitter-token dispenser? Absolutely worthy. I settled in for a long night of strategic ejections.

Hasbro Gaming Trouble Kids Board Game, Pop-o-Matic Trouble Game, Kids Games for 2-4 Players, Family Board Games for Kids, Kids Gifts, Ages 5 and Up, Packaging May Vary

By: Hasbro

Pete's Expert Summary

It appears my human has presented me with a contraption for their own amusement, a so-called "game" named, with a distinct lack of subtlety, "Trouble." It is a flat, colorful board upon which they move little plastic pegs after consulting a die trapped within a clear plastic dome. The primary appeal for them seems to be pressing this dome to make a loud *pop* noise, an act they find endlessly fascinating. For a being of my refinement, the true potential lies not in their tedious rules, but in the small, brightly colored pegs. They are the perfect size and weight for batting under furniture, providing a far more stimulating challenge than watching my staff push them in circles. The popping bubble, however, is a potential nap-disturber of the highest order.

Key Features

  • FUN FAMILY GAME FOR KIDS: Remember playing the original Trouble board game as a kid? Introduce a new generation to classic Trouble gameplay with this Trouble game for kids
  • EASY TO LEARN AND SET UP: The Trouble game is easy to play and quick set up. The object of the game is simple: the first player to get all of their game pieces around the board wins
  • POWER UP SPACES: The game instructions include options for classic Trouble gameplay or a version with Power Up Spaces for a more challenging game
  • POP-O-MATIC BUBBLE: In this beloved children's board game, players press and pop the plastic bubble to roll the die. The iconic Pop-o-Matic die roller is fun to press, and it keeps the die from getting lost
  • BOARD GAMES FOR FAMILY: Adults and kids can play this family board game together. It's a fun indoor game for playdates and a great choice for Family Game Night
  • GREAT GIFTS FOR GIRLS AND BOYS: Classic board games make entertaining family gifts for kids ages 5 and up
  • Ditch the TV and re-ignite family night with the get-together amusement of a Hasbro game
  • Party it up and surprise guests at your next event with laugh-out-loud games from Hasbro Gaming
  • Nostalgic tabletop gameplay meets interactive digital content for an immersive gaming experience
  • Hasbro Gaming imagines and produces games that are perfect for every age, taste and event

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The evening began like any other: with the humans finishing their meal and me, having already dined on superior-grade pâté, settling in for a post-dinner grooming session on the softest rug. Then, the box appeared. It was loud, graphically aggressive, and from its cardboard prison, my primary human—the one I call The Can Opener—unleashed a scene of garish chaos. A folding board, a riot of primary colors, was laid out on the low table. And then came the plastic pawns, little soldiers of red, yellow, blue, and green, marshaled at their home bases. My initial assessment was bleak. It was a planned, structured event designed to draw attention away from its rightful center: me. The true offense, however, was the centerpiece. A clear, hemispherical dome sat in the middle of this battlefield, a transparent prison for a single, spotted cube. The Can Opener placed a hand upon it and pressed. *POP*. The sound was sharp, an unpleasant plastic clap that vibrated through the floorboards and disturbed the delicate air currents of the room. The cube tumbled. A pawn moved. The other human, The Tall One, took a turn. *POP*. The ritual was baffling. They stared with such intensity at this cheap spectacle, their faces contorting with primitive emotions—glee, frustration, a competitive fire I typically reserve for the red dot. I watched from the shadows of the armchair, my tail giving a slow, critical swish. This was not play; this was a noisy, organized waste of perfectly good petting time. I waited for an opening, a lapse in their strange concentration. It came when The Tall One let out a triumphant cry, having sent one of The Can Opener's pieces back to its starting point. In the ensuing moment of gloating and complaint, I made my move. I flowed from the chair to the table in a single, silent motion, my gray tuxedo a specter in their colorful world. I ignored the offensive bubble. My target was a single, vulnerable yellow pawn, left exposed near the edge. I extended a paw, the claws carefully retracted, and gave it a gentle, exploratory tap. It sailed off the board, skittering across the hardwood floor with a most satisfying *clack-clack-clack* before vanishing into the dark abyss under the bookshelf. They didn't even notice. The game itself is a vulgar affair, but I must admit, the acquisition of its small, defenseless pieces for my private collection is a sport of the highest caliber. The game of "Trouble" has its uses, after all.

Hasbro Twister Party Classic Board Game for 2 or More Players,Indoor and Outdoor Game for Kids 6 and Up,Packaging May Vary

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired what they call a "Twister." From my observations, it is a large, thin vinyl sheet decorated with offensively bright circles, accompanied by a small, whirring device that dictates human contortions. The purpose appears to be a ritual of organized collapse, where my bipedal staff flail about until they form a tangled, giggling heap on the floor. While the ensuing chaos is a flagrant disruption of my peace, the mat itself presents a novel surface. Its sheer size offers a significant expansion of my napping real estate, and the crinkly sound it makes when pounced upon has a certain primitive appeal. The game itself is a waste of everyone's time, but the arena is… promising.

Key Features

  • WHO’S GOT THE MOVES: Classic Twister gameplay challenges players to place their hands and feet on red
  • GIVE THE SPINNER A WHIRL: See where it lands and make a move. Right foot red, off to a good start. Left foot green, you’ve got this. Left hand blue … wait, is that physically possible. Give it a shot
  • INDOOR ACTIVITY FOR KIDS: Stuck inside. The Classic Twister game is an action-packed way for kids, tweens, and teens to "get their energy out." (Parents, rejoice)
  • FUN PARTY GAME TO PLAY IN TEAMS: This group game includes instructions to play in teams, along with tips for hosting a Twister tournament. Break out the mat for game night too
  • TYING PLAYERS UP IN KNOTS FOR GENERATIONS: Who doesn’t remember playing this Hasbro game as a kid. The Twister game is for adults and kids age 6 and up. Families can join in the fun together
  • Out-twist your opponents in the game that ties you up in knots
  • For 2 to 4 players
  • Includes vinyl mat, spinner board and instructions
  • Twister game challenges you to put your hands and feet at different places on the mat without falling over
  • Be the last player standing to win
  • Fun Spinner's Choice ideas on the back of the spinner
  • If the spinner lands on air, the player must put a hand or foot in the air
  • Includes 1 twister mat, 1 spinner and instructions

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The humans unfurled the Polka-Dotted Calamity with an absurd amount of ceremony, its plastic scent offending my delicate nostrils. They smoothed it onto the living room rug, my rug, creating a gaudy landscape of primary-colored islands. My human, the one who usually provides the chin scratches, picked up a small board with a spinner. With a flick, it produced a whirring sound, culminating in a cheap, unsatisfying *click*. "Right foot, red!" she declared. Her companion complied, beginning the slow, awkward dance of the graceless. I watched from the arm of the chair, my tail twitching in mild irritation. It was a pathetic display of flexibility, a mockery of the effortless grace I embody with every stretch. As their limbs began to cross and tangle, a curious thought occurred to me. They were not playing a game; they were building a temporary, unstable jungle gym. A new, explorable terrain of arms and legs. This was no longer about them. It was about me. I waited for my moment, watching the spinner dictate their clumsy choreography. "Left hand, blue," the spinner commanded. As my human stretched precariously over her friend, creating a bridge of flesh and bone, I saw my opening. I descended from my perch with the silent poise of a falling shadow. I stepped onto the mat, my soft paws making no sound on the vinyl. The humans paused, their tangled tableau frozen in time. I ignored them. I was on a mission. I navigated the maze of limbs with practiced ease, my gray tuxedo a blur against the bright colors. I ducked under a trembling arm, wove past a quivering leg, and hopped delicately over an ankle. My goal was the very center of the chaos, a single, unoccupied yellow circle. It was the throne room of this bizarre, temporary kingdom, and it was mine by divine right. I reached the yellow circle and proceeded to give myself a thorough cleaning, a clear declaration that this territory was now under new management. The human who formed the main bridge to my island began to wobble. Her focus was on me, not her balance. Her arm, the one reaching for a distant blue dot, trembled violently. I flicked my tail, a gesture of finality, and brushed it gently against her supporting hand. It was all it took. With a great groan, the entire human structure collapsed around me in a heap of laughter and limbs. I remained untouched, the sole, dignified figure left standing—or rather, sitting. They had failed their own ridiculous game. I, on the other hand, had won. The mat, once a stage for their folly, was now a perfectly warmed, spacious, and gloriously quiet bed. The toy is an utter failure as a game for evolved creatures, but as a platform for demonstrating feline superiority and then taking a nap? It passes. Barely.

Hasbro Gaming Candy Land Kingdom of Sweet Adventures Board Game for Kids, Ages 3 & Up (Amazon Exclusive)

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, The Staff, has presented me with a product from the Hasbro monolith, a corporation I assume is run by particularly large, slow-witted dogs. It is a "board game" called "Candy Land," a garishly colored map of inedible confections apparently designed for undeveloped human kittens who lack the cognitive function for literacy. The entire premise—drawing cards and moving a small plastic effigy along a path—seems a profoundly inefficient use of energy that could be better spent sleeping in a sunbeam. While the "game" itself is an insult to my intelligence, the board does offer a new, moderately interesting surface for a mid-afternoon lounge, and those little gingerbread man pieces... well, they have a certain *skittering* potential when batted from a great height. Ultimately, the box is the main attraction, a fine, high-walled fortification.

Key Features

  • CLASSIC BEGINNER GAME: Do you remember playing Candy Land when you were a kid. Introduce new generations to this sweet kids' board game
  • RACE TO THE CASTLE: Players encounter all kinds of "delicious" surprises as they move their cute gingerbread man pawn around the path in a race to the castle
  • NO READING REQUIRED TO PLAY: For kids ages 3 and up, Candy Land can be a great game for kids who haven't learned how to read yet
  • GREAT GAME FOR LITTLE ONES: The Candy Land board game features colored cards, sweet destinations, and fun illustrations that kids love

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The operation began under the sterile, unforgiving light of the living room lamp. The Staff and a smaller, more chaotic version of The Staff unfurled the strategic map, its vibrant, nonsensical topography an assault on my refined gray-scale sensibilities. From my observation post atop the velvet armchair, I watched them deploy their ground units: four small, glossy soldiers shaped like some sort of baked human. They called them "gingerbread men." I called them unacceptable incursions into my sovereign territory. Their plastic smiles were a mockery of true contentment, the kind one only feels after a three-hour nap. I remained motionless, a predator of supreme patience, as they began their ritual. They would draw a "card"—a flimsy rectangle I knew would fit perfectly under the refrigerator—and then clumsily advance one of their primary-colored pawns. I paid no mind to their nonsensical rules or joyous yelps. My focus was singular: the little blue man, currently stationed near a treacherous-looking "Gumdrop Pass." He was isolated, his handler momentarily distracted by a crumb on her shirt. This was the moment tactical superiority would overcome juvenile enthusiasm. With the silence and grace befitting my station, I descended from the armchair. I did not pounce upon the board itself—such a brute-force tactic was beneath me. Instead, I ghosted along its edge, my tuxedo markings providing excellent camouflage against the dark wood of the coffee table. A single, surgically precise sweep of my paw was all it took. The blue pawn was launched from the board, landing with a satisfying *clatter* on the hardwood floor. The chase was brief but glorious, a ballet of calculated pursuit through the forest of table legs, culminating in the satisfying capture of my plastic quarry. I carried the vanquished soldier back to The Staff and deposited it neatly on her foot, a clear offering and a warning. The message was understood: this sector was under my control. Their game was over. I then retired to the true prize, the cardboard box, and settled inside its reassuring walls. The game itself is a tedious affair for simpletons, but as a source of high-quality, lightweight prey for tactical training exercises, it has earned a temporary stay of execution. It is worthy, but only as a tool for my own superior amusement.

Hasbro® Don’t Break The Ice Game

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in her infinite and often misplaced wisdom, has procured what appears to be a flimsy plastic grid intended to hold an array of chintzy blue and white cubes. The whole contraption is lorded over by a pathetic-looking penguin figurine named "Phillip," and the supposed "game" involves using tiny plastic hammers to knock the cubes out without causing Phillip to plummet. The humans seem to think the objective is to *prevent* the fall. This is, of course, a fundamental misunderstanding of physics, gravity, and the primary purpose of any small object: to be knocked onto the floor. While the organized "gameplay" would be a colossal waste of my energy, the resulting cascade of skittering plastic blocks and the triumphant capture of Phillip himself presents a brief, yet potentially rewarding, opportunity for chaos.

Key Features

  • FUN KIDS GAME: This Don’t Break the Ice game is an exciting preschool game that has players tapping out ice blocks one by one, as they imagine helping Phillip the Penguin make a new igloo
  • INDOOR GAME FOR AGES 3+: The object of this game for kids is to keep Phillip the Penguin on top of the ice, but as the game goes on, the ice blocks start falling. One wrong block and he'll go ker-plop.
  • FAMILY GAMES FOR KIDS: Get everyone together for family game night with the Don't Break the Ice game. Players will be on the edge of their seats just waiting for the moment that the penguin falls through
  • CHILDRENS GAMES MAKE GREAT GIFTS: If you're looking for family gifts or gifts for kids, board games are a great choice
  • HAVE FUN WITH CLASSIC GAMES: From classic tabletop board games to up-and-active toddler games, to party games, Hasbro Gaming is a one-stop-shop for filling your games closet

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The light from the floor lamp cut a hard line across the shag carpet, a lonely island in a sea of beige. The air was thick with the smell of microwaved leftovers and the low hum of the refrigerator—a typical Tuesday night. Then she brought it in. The Dame—my human—called it a "game." I called it a crime scene waiting to happen. "Don't Break the Ice," the box said. A threat? An invitation? In my line of work, they're often the same thing. They laid it out: a grid of cheap plastic, a frozen lake of lies, and perched right in the middle, the mark. Phillip. A two-bit penguin with a painted-on smile and a look in his plastic eyes that said he knew his time was up. The Dame and her accomplice, the Small Human, started the shakedown, taking turns tapping at the blocks with little plastic mallets. It was clumsy work, all brute force and no finesse. They were amateurs, tourists in a world of consequence I knew all too well. I watched from the arm of the sofa, my tail twitching like a metronome counting down to the inevitable. They yelped and giggled, oblivious to the tension I could feel in the very structure of the cheap frame. They were playing a game; I was waiting for the truth to fall. When they abandoned the scene for juice boxes and whatever drivel was on the glowing rectangle, I made my move. I leaped down, landing with a soft thud that didn't stir a mote of dust. I didn't need their crude hammers. I am a precision instrument. I circled the grid, my whiskers twitching, gathering data. I extended a single, perfect claw and gave a white block a delicate *tink*. It slid out, clean as a whistle, disturbing nothing. Another tap, a blue one. I wasn't just breaking the ice; I was dismantling an illusion, piece by piece. I found it, then. The keystone. The one block whose allegiances were questionable, whose structural integrity was compromised. It was supporting Phillip's smug little perch. I didn't swat or bat. I gave it a firm, deliberate push with the pad of my paw. There was a moment of perfect silence, a held breath in the universe of cheap plastic. Then, the cascade. A clattering of falling blocks, a symphony of collapse. And Phillip? He went down. A satisfying *ker-plop* as he hit the carpet. The case was closed. The game itself is a cheap grift, but the fall guy makes an excellent trophy. I batted him under the couch, where I’d be keeping him on ice. My kind of ice.

Jenga Game | The Original Wood Block Game with Genuine Hardwood Blocks | Stacking Tower Game | Ages 6+ | 1 or More Players | Party Games for Kids | Family Games

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, The Staff, has presented a curious artifact from a company called "Hasbro Gaming," a purveyor of amusements for clumsy, upright mammals. It appears to be a set of 54 uniform wooden bricks, intended to be stacked into a tower. The supposed "game" involves the ludicrous goal of removing these bricks one by one *without* causing the delightful, inevitable, and clearly superior outcome of a total structural collapse. While the quality of the genuine hardwood is intriguing—it promises a satisfying clatter and a pleasant texture under the paw—the entire premise of prolonging the tower's existence seems a profound waste of my time. Its only true value lies in its potential as a pre-built structure for me to gloriously demolish, and perhaps the cardboard stacking sleeve it comes in, which might make for an adequate, if temporary, sitting receptacle.

Key Features

  • THE ORIGINAL WOOD BLOCK GAME: Dare to risk it? Pull out a block, place it on top, but don't let the tower fall! The Jenga game for kids and adults is the wooden block balancing game loved for generations
  • FAST, EXCITING, ANYTIME FUN: With a simple set up, easy-to-learn rules, and just the right amount of challenge, the Jenga game is a great game for impromptu fun with family and friends
  • GREAT KIDS PARTY GAMES: Suspense, surprises, laughs! Liven up a party by taking along this portable game. This wooden blocks stacking game is great for Family Game Night, icebreakers, and kids birthday parties
  • GENUINE HARDWOOD BLOCKS: The classic Jenga board game includes 54 precision crafted wooden blocks. The easy-to-use stacking sleeve can help players build the tower
  • GAME FOR 1 OR MORE PLAYERS: No friends around? No problem. Play solo! Practice stacking skills, building the tower, and trying not to let it come tumbling down
  • FUN KIDS GIFTS: Kids games and classic games make great holiday or birthday gifts for 6 year old girls and boys and up

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The Staff was engaged in a ritual of intense, foolish concentration. She was meticulously erecting a beige tower on the living room floor, her tongue poking out slightly in a display of effort I reserve only for dislodging a particularly stubborn feather. The scent was clean, dry wood—not unpleasant, but lacking the siren song of salmon or catnip. She finished her monument to boredom and then, inexplicably, left the room, leaving the wooden offering standing there, a silent challenge to the laws of physics and feline authority. I flowed from my sunbeam on the sofa, a shadow of gray and white, and approached the structure. It was primitive. No flashing lights, no chirping sounds, no feathers. Just… blocks. I circled it once, my tail giving a slow, contemplative twitch. The humans' game was about suspense, about *avoiding* the crash. What a fundamentally flawed philosophy. The crash is the entire point. It is the crescendo, the grand finale. They were playing the symphony and deliberately stopping before the cymbals. My initial plan was a simple, brutish swipe. A show of overwhelming force. But that felt… crude. This was, after all, "precision crafted" hardwood. It deserved a more elegant deconstruction. I extended a single, immaculate white paw and selected a load-bearing block near the base. I didn't swat. I *poked*. A gentle, inquiring tap. The block slid smoothly, a testament to its fine milling. The tower quivered, a frisson of instability running up its spine. I watched, my whiskers vibrating with anticipation. It held. Impressive, in a flimsy sort of way. I gave the block a second, more insistent nudge. It was glorious. The surrender began not as a crash, but as a sigh. A slight, graceful lean, a moment of gravitational hesitation, and then a cascade of polished hardwood. It wasn't a cacophony; it was a percussive symphony, a clattering, skittering masterpiece across the floorboards. Blocks scattered like startled prey. I surveyed my work, sitting primly amidst the beautiful, artful chaos. The tower had failed my structural integrity test, as all things eventually must. The blocks themselves, however, were of a fine quality. An excellent toy, but only if one plays it correctly. It is, without a doubt, worthy of my attention, provided The Staff is willing to perform the tedious labor of setting it up for me again.

Sorry! Kids Board Game, Family Board Games for Kids and Adults, 2 to 4 Players, Family Games, Kids Games, Ages 6 and Up

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human presented this latest offering from Hasbro Gaming, a company that seems dedicated to creating colorful, flat territory maps for human rituals. This one, called "Sorry!", appears to be a formalized system for generating minor domestic disputes. The board is an acceptable, if garish, lounging space, but the true potential lies in the little plastic totems, which they amusingly call "pawns"—a word that sounds suspiciously like what I use to bat at them. The entire premise revolves around a "race" and something called "sweet revenge," a concept that resonates deeply with my personal philosophy regarding delayed dinner service. While the humans focus on their silly cards and rules, I foresee the true game: my strategic relocation of these pawns to my kingdom beneath the armchair. It might just be a worthy diversion.

Key Features

  • GAME OF SWEET REVENGE: Enjoy classic Sorry! gameplay with this Sorry! board game for kids. It's an edge-of-your-seat race to home, so hurry up and get there first
  • FIRST ONE HOME WINS: Who will be the first player to get all 3 of their pawns to the home space? But watch out! Players can get "sweet revenge" by sending each other's pawns back to the starting point
  • SO MANY POSSIBILITIES: Slide, collide, and score to win the Sorry! game. This family game for kids and adults features so many possibilities depending on the card picked up and strategy chosen
  • CLASSIC SORRY! GAMEPLAY: Remember playing the original Sorry! game as a kid? Bring back memories of playing the Sorry! game with family members and introduce it to a new generation
  • FAMILY GAME NIGHT FAVORITE: A go-to game for family time or anytime indoor fun, the Sorry! game for kids is one of the best family games for game night
  • GREAT GIFTS FOR GIRLS AND BOYS: Classic board games make entertaining family gifts for kids ages 6 and up who love group games

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The humans unfurled the brightly colored square, a gaudy tapestry of paths and circles, and began their primitive ritual. From my throne on the ottoman, I observed with detached amusement, my tail giving a slow, judgmental flick. They placed four sets of colored figurines— supplicants, I decided—at their starting shrines. My human, a wielder of the blue supplicants, seemed particularly invested, leaning forward with an unbecoming intensity. It was all a rather dull affair of drawing cards and shuffling the little plastic men forward, a plodding pilgrimage to nowhere. My initial disdain began to waver when the chaos started. A single card was drawn, and with a triumphant shout of "Sorry!", the yellow player’s piece was flicked, unceremoniously, all the way back to its origin. The pout on that human’s face was a masterpiece of despair. This was not a game of progress; it was a game of delightful, petty setbacks. My interest was piqued. This "sweet revenge" was a drama I could appreciate. The board was no longer a boring map; it was an arena, and these pawns were gladiators. I decided to intervene. Not as a mere cat, but as an agent of destiny. I descended from the ottoman, a silent, gray-and-white god making my way to the mortal realm. The humans paused, watching me. I ignored their cooing and walked with purpose onto the center of the board, my soft paws making no sound. I surveyed the battlefield. The little red gladiator was precariously close to its "home." Unacceptable. With a flick of my paw far more elegant than any human hand, I sent it skittering across the polished floor. It wasn't sorry; it was a divine correction. The humans erupted in a mix of laughter and groans, their silly rules momentarily forgotten in the face of my magnificent interference. They did not understand the gravity of my judgment, of course. They saw a cute cat. I saw a balanced universe. This "Sorry!" game, I concluded, was not for them. It was a stage for me. The pawns were my subjects, the board my kingdom, and the rules were subject to my supreme, furry whim. It is a worthy tribute. For now.

Hasbro Gaming Hi Ho Cherry-O Board Game for 2 to 4 Players Kids Ages 3 and Up (Amazon Exclusive)

By: Hasbro Gaming

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in their infinite and often baffling wisdom, has procured a box of colorful plastic bits from a company called "Hasbro Gaming." The purpose, as far as I can deduce, is to teach their smaller, louder counterparts the rudimentary concept of counting—a skill I, of course, perfected in my first year to ensure equitable treat distribution. The game involves a board with flimsy-looking trees, a spinning arrow of chance, and a collection of small, vibrantly colored "fruits." While the structured "gameplay" seems like a tedious and inefficient affair, the true potential lies in the components. These little plastic morsels are perfectly sized for batting under the heaviest furniture, and the tiny buckets might serve as adequate, if temporary, chin rests. It’s a classic case of excellent parts being wasted on a silly human ritual.

Key Features

  • CLASSIC BEGINNER GAME: Do you remember playing the Hi Ho. Cherry-O game when you were a child. Introduce new generations to the classic gameplay of this kids' board game for boys and girls ages 3 and up
  • FUN COUNTING BOARD GAME: Kids ages 3 and up can have a blast picking pretend fruit from the trees on the game board, and filling their buckets. The spinner lets them know the number of pieces to pick -- or put back
  • SIMPLE GAMEPLAY FOR PRESCHOOLERS: Players take turns picking pretend cherries, blueberries, apples, and oranges from their trees to fill their baskets. The first to fill their basket wins
  • PRACTICE BASIC MATH SKILLS: Kids can have such fun picking fruit to fill their baskets, they don’t even realize they’re practicing math skills, such as counting, addition and subtraction
  • GREAT GIFT FOR BOYS AND GIRLS: The Hi Ho. Cherry-O board game makes a great birthday gift for both boys and girls ages 3 and up. Play it at home with the family. Use this fun counting game in the classroom

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The Tall One called it "Hi Ho! Cherry-O," a name so aggressively cheerful it set my teeth on edge. They unboxed it on the living room rug, a territory I had just finished scent-marking, and I watched from my perch on the armchair as the chaotic scene unfolded. The smaller humans shrieked with a delight I found undignified as they spun the plastic arrow. The game, as I understood it, was a farcical exercise in resource management. The spinner, a cruel and arbitrary god, would grant them a few plastic fruits, only to capriciously demand they return some on a subsequent turn. I watched one of them put two blue "berries" *back* on the tree. The sheer idiocy of it made my tail twitch. Relinquishing a captured prize? Unfathomable. Once their short attention spans waned and they abandoned the field of play for some noisy screen, I descended to conduct a proper audit. I padded silently across the board, sniffing the plastic trees. The air smelled of cheap manufacturing and human hands. I nudged a red "cherry" with my nose. It rolled pleasingly. I gave it a soft pat, and it skittered across the floor, a far more satisfying outcome than placing it in a tiny bucket. This was not a game of counting; it was a lesson in physics and momentum. But the flawed economic model of the game still bothered me. This was no way to run an operation. Leaving acquisition to chance was a fool's errand. I would show them the meaning of efficiency. Ignoring the spinner entirely, I began my work. With surgical precision, I used a single claw to pluck every apple, every orange, every cherry and blueberry from their ridiculous trees. I was a silent, gray-furred harvester, a tycoon of pretend produce. I gathered them into a single, glorious pile, a testament to my superior strategy. Their little buckets were beneath me. I needed a proper vault for my newfound wealth. I located a far superior vessel: the Tall One's left slipper, carelessly left by the hearth. One by one, I nudged my entire colorful hoard into its soft, dark interior. Let them spin their little arrow. Let them consult their rules. I had already won. The game was flawed, but its pieces, once liberated from their nonsensical system, were quite gratifying. The real victory was in proving that my way—the cat's way—was, as always, the most logical and profitable. I gave a satisfied groom to my white tuxedo chest and settled in for a well-deserved nap atop my throne of victory, the now empty game box.