Let’s face it. Come to terms with it. There’s nothing wrong with it, really. The kid likes it, right? That’s all the matters. But the truth is…
SOPHIE THE GIRAFFE IS A GODDAMN DOG TOY.
It’s rubber. It squeaks. Sounds like a chew toy for the ol’ mutt, doesn’t it.
Well, belovers of this antique french giraffe.
IT’S A GLORIFIED DOG TOY MARKETED FOR YOUR CHILD.
Those French sure are smart.
Picture it. Not Sicily. 1961. Somewhere in Paris. You know the inventor was just sitting there. Little wedge of brie. Little glass of wine. Reading philosophy* or some crap. Little Pomeranian by his side. Gnawing on a little rubber pork chop.
He hears the kid cry in the other room. The wife went to the market. The nanny was off duty. The kid was teething.
Not knowing what to do – hey, this was back in the day and you know most dads couldn’t do shit – he frantically tried to find the solution to make this infant shut its yap.
Blanket? Mais non.
Cuddles? LOL French men don’t cuddle.
In throes of fury he yanks the pork chop from the Pom, shoves it in le bebe’s facehole.
Yikes. But baby noms. Baby is happy. Baby bites down.
Sqquuueaaaaaak. Baby squeals with glee.
Well. That sure did the trick now, didn’t it.
DOG TOY SAVED THE DAY FOR FRENCH DAD.
He thought, “C’est bon! Let’s sell the shit out of this thing!”
And the rest, shall we say, is history.
Thankfully, someone had enough foresight into making it a cute little giraffe with a sweet little name. Otherwise babies across the world could be nomming on rubber pork chops or hamburgers right now.
Which actually would be sort of cute, though way less marketable. Although I bet they could have made Sophie the Steak work.
But yeah. Next time your kid is drooling on that thing, remember this history lesson. It’s a dog toy. And that’s okay. Just don’t let the baby and the dog share it. That’s gross.
* He could have been reading philosophy or…wait for it…philosophie. Huh? HUH?? Oh god. I am ashamed of myself. Big A must have wore off on me over the extended weekend. Apologies.