Pete's Expert Summary
My human has brought home another plastic contraption from the brand "Little Tikes," a name I associate with the large, hollow structures the smaller humans climb on. This one, the "Story Dream Machine," appears to be a light box designed to distract the little one with moving pictures on the wall. It projects stories about lesser animals—a puppy, a lion, an elephant—which sounds dreadfully dull. However, the core concept of projecting shifting lights onto a large, flat surface has... possibilities. While I have no interest in the narrative drivel about a "Poky Little Puppy," the potential for a slow, hypnotic, and eminently pounce-able light source might save this device from being a complete waste of my valuable napping time. The "white noise" feature could also be a pleasant accompaniment to a deep slumber, assuming it's more of a gentle purr than an obnoxious clang.
Key Features
- BRING STORYTIME TO LIFE - Watch, listen, and read along to stories like The Poky Little Puppy, as they shine bright on the wall. Colorful lights and sound effects help each story magically unfold.
- INCLUDES 3 STORIES & 1 CHARACTER - Enjoy 3 Little Golden Book stories: The Poky Little Puppy, Tawny Scrawny Lion, and The Saggy Baggy Elephant. The Poky Little Puppy character adds light effects in nightlight mode.
- SLEEP & DREAM – Doubles as a white noise nightlight to help your child fall fast asleep. Choose from 5 different sounds.
- READ ALONG – Develops beginning reading skills and word recognition as children see words projected and hear a narrator read them a story.
- EASY-TO-USE & STORE – Change the volume, fast forward or rewind the story easily with the simple, kid-friendly controls. Store cartridges in the slots on the side of the projector.
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The box arrived with an air of noisy excitement that always sets my fur on edge. My human presented it to the small, loud human, cooing about "storytime." I watched from my strategic perch atop the dresser, tail twitching in profound skepticism. It was a blocky, plastic thing, utterly lacking the refined aesthetics of, say, a cardboard box or a sunbeam. That evening, the true test began. The bedroom lights were dimmed—a promising development—and the machine whirred to life. A soft beam of light hit the wall, and an image coalesced. It was a dog. A puppy. I was prepared to stalk out of the room in protest at this canine effrontery. But then, the picture moved. The puppy, rendered in simple, glowing lines, trotted across the wall. A disembodied voice began to drone on about fences and desserts, but I filtered it out. My world narrowed to that single, moving patch of light. It wasn't the manic, exhilarating chase of the Red Dot, my eternal nemesis and secret love. This was different. This was a slow, deliberate hunt. A tactical exercise. My predator brain, usually occupied with calculating the optimal nap angle, clicked into high gear. This was not a story; it was a target. I slunk from the dresser, my movements liquid silver in the dim light. I crept along the floor, using the small human’s discarded laundry as cover. The puppy stopped to look at a bee. Pathetic. I froze, my body a coiled spring, my gray-and-white tuxedo a perfect urban camouflage against the rug. My hindquarters began their tell-tale wiggle. The small human was giggling, pointing at the wall, completely oblivious to the primal drama unfolding at his feet. He saw a cartoon; I saw prey. With a silent bound, I launched myself at the wall. My paws made a soft thud against the plaster, right where the puppy’s head had been. The light passed through me, casting a magnificent, monstrous shadow. The image, of course, was unharmed. It simply continued its slow journey across my wall. I landed, regrouped, and began to stalk it again. The story of some "Saggy Baggy Elephant" came on next, an even larger and slower target. Excellent. The human thinks this machine is for her child. She is mistaken. She has acquired a sophisticated, interactive training simulator for a master hunter. It is a worthy, if temporary, diversion.
