Noisy toys—ones that emit sounds like snatches of dialogue or short bursts of musak—are a mixed blessing. On one hand a child's interactive play is perhaps enhanced by the presence of an auditory component. On the other hand the parent of that child may wish to dash the toy against the wall after a short but intense activation and play period.
TheBoy got a Toy Story 3 Rex Torch. It's pretty kewl. It's Rex—the T-Rex toy—and there's a torch in its mouth. You press a button that's along the inside of its tail and the torch is revealed. At that point the torch 'roars'. It's the same roar Rex uses in Toy Story where he's trying to be scary and then asks for notes ('Were you scared?') like a fellow actor in a local drama improv class.
TheBoy had the torch in the car. He was gleefully pressing it on ad-nauseum. 'Roar! Roar! Were you scared? Roar!' (1)
TheWife and I had given up and asking him to stop so we were talking loudly over the top of the roaring and actor feedback sesh about various developments (revolting or otherwise) when from the back theBoy complained.
'You are talking too loud!' he said. 'I cannot hear my toy!'
Yes, that's right. We were told off ... for talking over the top of his noisy toy sound.
Area child has high regard for self-worth.
(1) The most annoying noisy toy would be owned by Miss J from when she was two or three. It was a riding push along scooter who had a diarama mounted under glass (plastic) which rotated when a button was pushed. Then in a tinny voice would come a sacchrine-sweet Mid-West voice of 'Where's my prince? Where's my prince? (insert rest of song here)'. It was painful. It probably had an "accident" at some point. Noisy toys end up like the heroic small businessman that refuses to pay protection ('You annoyed Ronnie by not payin'. No one annoys Ronnie...').