Seems like all of Adrian's toys and furniture play the same few songs. Frere Jacques. The Wheels on the Bus. Rock-a-bye Baby. Or sometimes, if we're lucky, a medley of the three.
Not exactly high quality stuff either.
They sound like they're being performed on a cheap Casio keyboard. In a closet. Underwater. Way worse than the Muzak versions of songs you hear in the doctor's office.
And to make matters worse, the batteries in Adrian's bouncy chair started dying this morning. Treating everyone to a slightly demonic rendition of Baa Baa Black Sheep.
If Adrian ever goes on a homicidal killing spree, I'm placing the blame on both Fisher and Price.
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