This last Christmas, my daughter begged for a Furby. I was very firm in saying NO each time she asked because I knew about the toy. I knew it could turn evil, and that it didn’t shut off, and that it was loud.
But on Christmas Day, my “friend” Dresden came over and lo and behold, she gave my daughter the Furby you see pictured there on the left. I’ve forgiven Dresden for this. Mostly.
My daughter LOVES IT. Like, crazy loves it. She uses the iPad app to feed it, play it music, and pets it constantly. She made a special bed for it, and then built it a little room inside her bedroom.
The kitten Tori got in September gets less attention. You know, the living and breathing pet she already has. One that never changes personalities, I might add (don’t worry, I love that kitten and it gets lots of love).
If you’ve ever wondered, as I do (mostly in the middle of the night when the Furby wakes up for some reason I can’t fathom and begins yelling furbish), who to blame I mean thank for the Furby, it turns out it’s two dudes: Dave Hampton and Caleb Chung. Two dudes that clearly hate parents. I’m sorry for whatever your parents did to you two. Sincerely.
But here’s the thing about the Furby: it’s really a technological wonder. It’s a robot which is amazing as it is but one that actually evolves. It speaks “furbish” (grumble), but over time learns more words. It is jam packed with sensors throughout its little body, responding to tickles and pets and scratches. It even responds to being hung upside down and pulling its tail.
So ultimately, I have to bow to the creators. It’s really an impressively created toy, and it has made my daughter incredibly happy.
Just don’t pull its tail, by the way, when it’s got the dopey voice with the Australian accent. That personality farts and burps constantly.
Ask me how I know.