I think it would be fair to say that I have something of an askew fascination with insects. Having (unofficially) minored in entomology in university, I took every undergraduate course offered by the school filling the gaps in my schedule left whilst studying the arguably less critter-filled world of molecular genetics. Had I been gutsy enough to pursue the passion over the practical (a conversation for another day) I might today be writing a more scientific exploration of some rare lepidopteran mating habit instead of a sure-to-be overlooked fluff editorial on plush, bug-shaped children’s toys. But, alas, such is life. And being in the curious position of father, writer, and science-buff I thought it useful to put otherwise wasted talents to better gain and continue the mission of bringing critical thought to the next generation by looking at my own experiences locating toys for aspiring scientists.

And what better way to toe that shark-infested pool than by showering mixed praise on one of my own daughter’s father’s favorite baby distractions? May I present the “Melissa & Doug Deluxe Bug Jug Fill & Spill” to which affiliation I can only claim admiration for novelty of the product. Oh, sweet. Whoever stumbled upon this gem-amongst-mere-shiny-stones at the local Toys’R Us is forever in my gratitude and good graces if for no other reason than it has restored my wavering faith in the children’s toy industry. There is hope.

I suppose as a skeptical father it is an obvious conclusion to draw that I’m rather sick of seeing the words “Baby Einstein”, hearing gushes from parents who insist that there is some product-paved path to childhood genius, or reading yet another brain development or educational claim tagged to the back packaging of every quasi-idenitifiable misshapen chunk of baby-safe plastic and plush on the department store shelves. No, I’ve read the real research behind classical music’s affects on baby brains (not much at all) and I’m fairly certain that there is no such thing as an educationally superior stuffed animal.

But back to the Bug Jug.

Now, I’ll admit this is something of a neurotic fancy but the straight facts are this:

1) The toy did not make any outrageous claims about its own educational value. It just came in a neat little package as if to say, this toy is so cool who cares if it teaches anything because its just freaking insects for kids.

2) It is wholly and completely battery and electronics free, powered by one hundred percent imagination. If this seems unimportant become a parent. Then become a parent who has heard the same electronic melody played five hundred and eleven times and know that — while babies love repetition — even that is a little much.

3) The bugs are (in as much as plush bugs can be) relatively anatomically correct. That is to say the beetle has six legs, the spider has eight. No compound eyes, true. But this is for the wee ones, after all.

4) The toy is not only a collection of four bugs but it also — also — comes with a slick specimen jar, a translucent container with proper ventilation in the lid to let the, uh, samples breath.

Can anyone say junior scientist? I know I’m gushing. I know. Call me on it. There is, however, little to contain the abundance of excitement a skeptical parent (such as myself) feels when the realization arrives that the world has not completely diminished to the uniform unimaginative state of baby brain-enforcement through long-since-debunked methods involving music, flash cards, videos, and rote memorization. There is little to contain the abundance of excitement a skeptical parent feels when the realization arrives that someone is still encouraging play through cool, science-based toys that don’t try to teach, but simply encourage exploration and play.

And that’s what I call a critical thinking toy.