I’m Not a Scientist

While dying Easter eggs, I was reminded of the fact that I am not a scientist. Here’s the play by play.

Grady: What are these candies for?
Me: They’re not candies. Don’t eat them.
Grady: What are they?
Me: They’re little colorful egg-dye pellets.
Grady: Pellets?
Me: Yeah, pellets.

After that beautiful explanation, I pulled out the apple cider vinegar.

Annie Bea: What’s that?
Me: This is vinegar.
Annie Bea: Why do we need vinegar?
Me: Well, the vinegar contains acid. And that acid causes the little egg-dye pellets to dissolve and make colorful liquids to dip the eggs in.

Nailed it. Like I stole the words from Einstein himself.

Me: Ok, so we pour the vinegar in the cups and LOOK! See? The acid is making the pellets get all fizzy and dissolve-y.

A Rhodes Scholar, I am.

While the kids watched the fizzy dissolve-y-ness happening on the kitchen counter, I stepped away to get my phone in the bedroom. I wasn’t gone for two seconds before a fight broke out and I could hear Annie Bea screaming, “Stop! Don’t! Grady, stop!”

Me: What is going on out there?
Grady: She pushed me!
Annie Bea: I did not! Grady broke my ass!

Grady broke my ass.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

So I ran back to the kitchen and found Grady using that “wire egg dipper thing” to smash up the pellets so they’d dissolve faster in the acid.

Oh, thank God. Grady didn’t break his sister’s ass. He broke her ASS-id. Carry on.

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