Pete's Expert Summary
So, my human has presented me with this... object. It appears to be a flat, wooden tray designed to hold a variety of colorful, angular blocks. They claim it is a "puzzle" that makes "sounds." Ostensibly, this is for the benefit of a small, uncoordinated human to learn its rudimentary communication system. I find the entire concept patronizing. While the wooden blocks, being slightly raised, might possess a certain satisfying skittering quality when batted across a hardwood floor, the primary function seems to be making noises, which is frankly my job. It is, in all likelihood, a colossal waste of premium napping real estate.
Key Features
- See and hear the alphabet with this 26-piece wooden Alphabet Sound Puzzle with brightly colored uppercase letters
- 10" x 13.5" x 0.8" sturdy wooden puzzle board (AAA batteries required, not included)
- Pictures under pieces for easy matching and enhanced learning opportunities; letters sit slightly above the puzzle board for easy grasping
- TIP: Puzzle has light-activated sensors; for best results, expose the sensor by removing a piece in a brightly lit room, then make the sound play by replacing the piece in the board
- Makes a great gift for preschoolers, ages 3 to 5, 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
The thing arrived on a Tuesday, an offense in itself, as Tuesdays are reserved for deep meditation in the west-facing sunbeam. My human, with the clumsy enthusiasm of a retriever, freed the "Alphabet Sound Puzzle" from its crinkly prison and installed the requisite power cells. I watched from the arm of the Chesterfield, tail twitching in irritation. The brand, “Melissa & Doug,” sounded like a pair of relentlessly cheerful camp counselors. The human demonstrated, placing the block shaped like an "A" into its corresponding recess. A tinny, disembodied voice chirped, "A!" I yawned, a deliberate, jaw-cracking display of utter boredom. My human, bless their simple, servant-like heart, eventually abandoned the gaudy plank on the rug and left the room. Silence descended once more. Yet, the board sat there, a vibrant insult in the middle of my floor. It beckoned not with a promise of play, but as a puzzle of a different sort: why did this exist? I stalked over, circling it as I would a particularly stupid beetle. The pieces were indeed slightly raised. With a practiced flick of my paw, I sent the "C" sliding into the dark void beneath the sofa. A far more appropriate place for it. It was when I swatted the "S" that the true nature of this device revealed itself. The piece skittered away, and as I peered into the now-empty slot, I noticed a tiny, dark eye—a light sensor. The sunbeam from the window was pouring directly into it. My shadow fell across the opening, and nothing happened. I moved, and the light hit it again. Intrigued, I didn't bother finding the "S." Instead, I took my paw, a pristine white mitten of judgment, and deliberately covered the sensor. Then, I uncovered it. I repeated this several times. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. This wasn't a spelling toy; it was a primitive optical instrument! Forgetting my nap, I became a scientist. I discovered I could control the sound not just by replacing the piece, but by manipulating the light source itself. I would knock a piece out, then use my own magnificent, shadowy form to plunge the sensor into darkness, holding the device hostage in a state of enforced silence. I would then permit a sliver of light to touch the sensor just as I nudged the piece back with my nose, commanding the voice to speak at my whim. The alphabet was irrelevant. I was the master of this domain, a conductor of light and sound. The human returned to find all the pieces scattered like vanquished soldiers and me, Pete, asleep directly on the board, my body artfully blocking every single sensor. It was a crude device, but its secrets had been a moderately diverting challenge for a mind such as mine. It had earned a temporary stay of execution.
