A dad & daughter project
Stella dreams up the games — a soup kitchen with a silly cat, animals you color in yourself — and we build them together at the kitchen table. She's the whole reason this exists. Now your kids can play what she imagined: calm little games with no ads, no accounts, and nothing to buy. They even work on the airplane.
No screens in the making of it — she talks, we listen, and the toy appears. Then she plays it, changes her mind, and we build it again her way.
Out loud, in kid words.
“A kitchen where I can cook soup… with a silly cat in it.”
Dad and Stella, side by side. She art-directs. She's ruthless.
“No — leave the animals blank, so I can color them ALL.”
Every toy goes in her gallery. Nothing is ever deleted. She's building a portfolio of things she made herself.
These aren't mockups — they're the actual games Stella designed, exactly as she plays them. Tap one. They run right here, on anything, with no internet.
Four cooking stations. Add what you like — including the silly cat — and cook it.
Stella's idea · age 5Color your explorer, walk the world, find hidden animals, and color every one.
Stella's idea · age 5Rainbow crayons and stamps. No wrong answers.
Stella's idea · age 5Tap each letter, hear its sound, blend the word. Real phonics, made gentle.
Dad's homework · Stella-approvedTry this: turn on airplane mode first. Everything still works. That's the whole point.
Hand it over: open the kids' Studio →
The Studio is the kid-facing side — big tiles, no words to read, made for small hands. This page is for you; that one's for them.
The part parents don't expect
The reading toys aren't quizzes with a cartoon reward stapled on. They're real systematic phonics — the method reading researchers back — hidden inside a game she asks to play. Three steps, in the right order:
Find the letter that makes a sound — not guess a word from a picture.
Step 2 · BlendTap s·a·t, hear each sound, and blend them into a whole word.
Step 3 · SpellHear a word, break it into its sounds, and build it back.
All three live in the Studio — open it and try them.
Built on the s-a-t-p-i-n letter sequence with decodable words only — the same order used in evidence-based classrooms. No quizzing, no guessing, no losing.
“That's you, Daddy.” The first time she opened it after I recorded my own voice, she looked up and knew — nobody told her. The letters speak in a parent's voice, not a robot's. Your family's version can speak in yours.
Stella won't be the only developer here. Tell us what your kid dreams up — dinosaurs who bake, a puppy hospital, a rocket that collects colors — and we'll regularly pick one, build it into a real toy, and add it to the Studio credited to your kid: “idea by Maya, age 6.”
Ideas come from parents by design — kids never type into anything here, and we only ever use a first name and age. Sending opens your own email so you press send — nothing is transmitted without you.
We're working parents. These are the rules we wanted and couldn't find — so they're the rules we build by.
Sound only when your kid taps. No streaks, no prizes, no “come back tomorrow.” Nothing is lost by stopping — hand-back without the meltdown.
No wi-fi, no logins, no re-downloading, no “network error” at 30,000 feet. If it's in the gallery, it plays.
The reading games follow the science of reading — letter sounds, blending, decodable words. No quizzing, no guessing from pictures.
No ads. No in-app purchases. No accounts for kids. No data leaves your device — there's nowhere for it to go.
This is small-batch software: built by one dad at the kitchen table, art-directed by one five-year-old. If something seems wonky, it might be — email us and it gets fixed fast, usually with Stella supervising. What's never wonky: no ads, no tracking, nothing to buy. Those aren't features we're iterating on; they're the rules of the house.
More toys, a timer that keeps sibling peace, and a studio where your kid is the developer. Want in when it's ready?
Join the waitlistIt's just us — a real family answers every email.