Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has procured what appears to be a box of controlled chaos from a brand called Blue Marble. It’s branded with “National Geographic,” which I associate with those frustratingly flat birds on the glowing rectangle. This "Amazing Chemistry Set" promises to turn my tranquil home into a laboratory of bubbling liquids, glowing goo, and other such undignified messes. While the potential for a small, rollable "bouncy ball" or other loose components to bat under the sofa is moderately appealing, the high probability of my human being distracted for hours by colorful water is a serious threat to my regularly scheduled petting and treat-dispensing sessions. It seems a frivolous endeavor, trading guaranteed comfort for the slim chance of a new, inferior toy.
Key Features
- OVER 100 EXCITING EXPERIMENTS - The 100+ science experiments in this kit let kids explore the wonders of hands-on science experiments. They'll make bubbling, color-changing solutions, glowing test tubes, a colorful bouncy ball, glowing worms, & more!
- EVERYTHING KIDS NEED - This kit includes all materials needed to conduct 15 stunning chemistry experiments, including growing a crystal tree, changing the color of liquid with their breath, and more!
- 85+ BONUS EXPERIMENTS - Because we know your kids will want to conduct even more science experiments once they get going, we include a bonus experiment guide with 85+ additional experiments that can all be done with common household items.
- HANDS-ON STEM - Our science toys are known for being hands-on, and this kids activity kit is no different. Your kids will use real scientific tools, like test tubes, beakers and pipettes, as they explore the fascinating world of chemistry.
- AWARD-WINNING PRODUCTS - Blue Marble, winner of the Toy Association's prestigious Toy of the Year Award, proudly develops products that foster education, imagination, and creativity, with a U.S. support team to ensure a stellar experience!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
I am, and have always been, the preeminent scientist of this household. My primary fields of study are applied physics (observing the gravitational potential of objects on countertops), material science (testing the tensile strength of the sofa arm), and acoustics (the precise decibel level required to summon breakfast at 5:17 AM). So, when my Lab Assistant—the human—unpacked this box of amateurish implements, I regarded it as a direct challenge to my authority. They laid out beakers and test tubes, crude glass baubles compared to the elegant curvature of my favorite water bowl. It was an insult. The Assistant began their first "experiment," fumbling with powders and liquids. I observed from my perch on the back of the chair, my tail twitching with critical disdain. Their technique was appalling. No preliminary environmental assessment, no control group, just a clumsy sloshing of liquids that resulted in a solution that bubbled and changed color. It was a flashy, unsophisticated display. I can change the color of water myself, simply by dipping a paw in it after visiting the litter box. My method is far more organic and efficient. Their magnum opus appeared to be a set of "glowing worms." They wiggled the rubbery things, which pulsed with a faint, sickly green light in the darkened room. I condescended to leap down and investigate this supposed marvel. I gave one a firm pat. It flopped inertly. No satisfying skitter, no panicked squeak. I sniffed it; a sterile, plastic scent, devoid of the rich, earthy bouquet of a real garden invertebrate. As a prey-analog, it was a categorical failure. As an object of intellectual curiosity, it was beneath me. I rendered my final verdict with a deliberate yawn. The human’s "science" was a frivolous sideshow, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing of importance. However, as I turned to leave, my eye caught on a small, clear plastic pipette resting on the table. Its slender form and squeezable bulb presented intriguing possibilities. It could be used to conduct advanced fluid dynamics research in my water dish, or perhaps to discreetly sample the Assistant's morning cream. While the experiments themselves were a waste of perfectly good napping time, I concluded that some of their equipment might be appropriated for my own, far more significant, work. I would allow it, for now.