This dastardly toy can say its own name and when it does it always follows it up with a high-pitched giggle. I finally couldn’t take it anymore, and since I couldn’t figure out how to remove the batteries I just hid the damn thing. It’s lucky I didn’t have a handy ax lying around.
Last night after dinner Marlo kept saying she wanted to get a “real” puppy.
“Marlo, you have two dogs RIGHT HERE,” I said pointing to Chuck and Coco.
“UGH. Not them. I want a REAL one,” she said.
“These are as real as dogs get, sweetie.”
“But I want one that can talk.”
“You want a puppy who can talk.”
“Yesth!” she said. “A real puppy who can talk and sthing with me.”
So I went to the closet where I had hid the toy, set it on the countertop and said, “Here. It’s not a puppy, but it can say its own name. And you don’t have to clean up its poop.”