I’m a purple fruit with a dusty hide, eaten fresh, baked, preserved, or dried. Peaches and cherries are in my family tree, I have a heart of stone buried inside of me. I must warn that if you eat too much, to and from the toilet you will surely march.

Of all the inventions that have been made over the years, I am generally considered to be the most remarkable. What am I?

I can sometimes be cracked, and you can usually find me in a trail. If I describe your mind, your thoughts are probably off the rail.

I’m an onomatopoeia, a sound effect, like brrr. I’m almost the name of a hoppity guy, a friend to a famous deer. I sound like bump, and slump, and a seven hump wump of Mr. Gump. If you’re missing your front teeth, I might be what comes out when you try to say sump. What word am I, the sound when a heavy object meets the ground?

I’m your favorite pastime of x and o. But then I went and lost my favorite toe. Good breath guises an innocent treat. Baby’s rattle, I can’t be beat.