An exploration of the dreadful playtime items that clutter your home while you wait to get your child a phone.
The Toy
Playhut, produced by the aptly named Basic Fun, which filed for bankruptcy last year.
The Slogan
“Twist, pop and play with Playhut!”
The Product
A $25 play tent adorned with your child’s favorite franchise. Yes, they come in Paw Patrol. If you’re confused, you probably don’t have kids.
What It’s Made Of
Playhuts are constructed from repurposed chicken wire and a polymer fabric that is approximately 15% stronger than a Bounty towel. In comparison, they make an average Fanatics jersey feel luxurious. Each Playhut comes with one opening flap, which is unlikely to suffice for long.
Additionally, they offer foldable tunnels, made from the same material as those lively parachute playthings. Unlike the tents, these tunnels are practically indestructible. You could likely use a piece from one to fix a moon lander. However, adults, beware: fitting inside this tunnel is a lesson best learned the hard way. The jaws of life may have been required.
Noise Factor
Fortunately, the toy itself is silent. However, I can’t guarantee the same for your children while they play.
Battery Factor
No batteries needed, which is a bonus!
Review
If your kids are too lazy to construct a fort from couch cushions, the Playhut is the answer. Throughout my parenting journey, I have owned a variety of Playhuts: Disney Princess, Thomas the Tank Engine (shaped like a train), a Playhut tunnel, and Paw Patrol versions. All offered great value, aside from the bed tent, which was a nightmare to negotiate with. My son only enjoyed sleeping in it for about 10 minutes before asking me to take it down. I think I ultimately got rid of it in frustration.
The other Playhuts were incorporated into elaborate couch cushion forts by my kids, complete with tunnels and Beanie Baby inhabitants. They even created a slide entrance using the couch, but since they were too young to notice any design flaws, they did not provide extra support underneath the tunnel. As a result, Dad had to find some emergency pillows to reinforce it.
Once your child constructs a fort of such intricate design, you can forget about dismantling it. Little Johnny isn’t going to let you take down his creation just because it’s “bedtime” or because “there’s no space to walk here.” If you do, expect a flood of tears. Suddenly, it falls on the more resilient parent (often mom) to ignore the cries and clear the fort. Mom is the true enforcer in this scenario.
Additionally, I’ve enjoyed playful moments hiding with my kids in a Playhut, pretending it’s a castle. But here’s the harsh truth: Once you unfold a Playhut, you’ll never get it back to its original shape. Imagine the struggle of un-kinking a Slinky, but much worse; now it’s a three-foot structure adorned with a huge Cinderella tablecloth stuck to it.
Reflecting on my early parenting days, I realize how much time I wasted trying to pack away these monstrosities, contorting them into odd shapes that resembled Pluto’s orbit. Midway through folding, I always surrendered, leaving it half-stored with parts sticking out. Eventually, I resigned to leaving it in the center of my basement, where it claimed a spot as permanent furniture. With kids, you often find yourself exclaiming, “Who left this here?” Playhuts are expertly designed to provoke this query daily. Even when you know the answer, you still ask. The reality is that you can do nothing but wait until your child loses interest or it deteriorates. I have no idea if we still have our Playhuts, nor do I care to find out.
At least it requires no batteries.
