Pete's Expert Summary
So, the large biped is considering another flashy bauble for the small, unpredictable one. This 'KidiZoom Smartwatch' appears to be a miniature version of the glowing rectangle they're always tapping, but strapped to a wrist. It has cameras, makes noise (music, it claims), and encourages the child-human to flail about with 'challenges.' While the promise of distracting the small one is tempting—potentially freeing up premium sunbeams for my exclusive use—the execution is suspect. A 'splash-proof' electronic device that makes noise and encourages movement sounds like a recipe for chaos, not tranquility. Ultimately, it's a toy for them, not for me, and its primary value will be measured in how many decibels it adds to my otherwise serene household.
Key Features
- This super-cool smartwatch has two cameras, a large screen, high resolution, a premium metal body, a music player and more
- Get out and play with this splash-proof watch, featuring exciting activities, challenges and reaction games designed to get you moving
- Explore your creativity with the dual cameras, adding effects to photos and videos or making music with the composer app
- Includes 50 built-in clock faces, plus more to download to practice telling time, or shake the watch to hear the time out loud
- Intended for ages 4+ years; rechargeable lithium-ion battery; charge device using included micro-USB cable only and avoid third-party adapters
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The new object arrived in a box of offensively bright colors, which the smallest human, Leo, tore open with a familiar shriek of delight. It was a blue wrist-trinket, a 'smartwatch'. My initial analysis from atop the bookshelf was dismissive. Another screen to steal attention that was rightfully mine. Leo strapped it on and immediately began a series of frantic gyrations, apparently following instructions from the tiny, glowing face. I closed my eyes, deciding this was beneath my notice. It was a mere fad, destined to be lost under the sofa cushions within a fortnight. My opinion began to shift later that evening. The house was quiet, the humans asleep. The watch, however, had been left on the coffee table, its screen dark. A faint, almost imperceptible electronic hum emanated from it, a siren song to my sensitive ears. I leaped down, landing with a soft thud on the rug, and approached with caution. Nudging it with my nose, the screen flared to life, displaying a cartoon cat face with enormous green eyes. An imitation. A mockery. I was about to turn away in disgust when Leo, a notorious sleep-walker, padded into the room. He picked up the watch, his eyes glazed over. "Time to count the ghosts," he mumbled, activating one of the 'activity challenges.' What happened next was... peculiar. Leo began pointing the watch's tiny camera lens into the dark corners of the room, as if scanning for intruders. The watch would occasionally beep, and a number would flash on the screen. He wasn't looking at the screen; he was looking where the watch pointed. He aimed it at the dusty space behind the television, and the watch let out a high-pitched trill. "That's one," Leo whispered. He aimed it at the shadowy entryway, where a draft always seemed to linger. *Beep-boop*. "That's two." It was then I realized—this wasn't a game. The device was reacting to things he couldn't see. Things *I* could see. The subtle shimmer of a Dust Elemental behind the TV. The cool wisp of a Draft Sprite in the hall. He finally pointed the watch at me, curled on the rug. The device went silent. Its screen simply showed my own regal face, captured by the camera. Leo blinked, his trance seemingly broken by my sheer magnificence. "Oh. Hi, Pete," he said, his voice clear again. He patted my head, set the watch back on the table, and shuffled back to bed. I stared at the watch, its screen now dark. It was not a toy. It was an interpreter, a crude but functional bridge between the mundane human world and the far more interesting, spirit-filled reality I inhabit. It's still a noisy piece of plastic, but I've decided it can stay. It might prove useful for cataloging the lesser spirits who dare to intrude upon my domain.
