Pete's Expert Summary
My human has acquired a box filled with various powders and vials, which they call a "Magic Chemistry Set." It is, ostensibly, for the smaller, more chaotic human. The entire affair seems designed to create messes under the guise of "education." I see potential for intriguing chemical smells and perhaps a few spilled potions that might require my supervisory licks. The included "magic wand" could prove to be a passable bat-able stick if it's discarded carelessly, but the true prize is the box itself—a prime napping location. Ultimately, this is a loud, human-focused activity that will likely disrupt my schedule, but the small chance of a new, interesting substance appearing on the floor makes it worth a cursory glance from a safe distance.
Key Features
- MAGIC SCIENCE YOUR KIDS WILL LOVE - These 10 science experiments are mind-blowing! Girls and boys will, make a coin float, change the color of water, have snow magically appear, and much more! You won't find experiments like these anywhere else
- SHOW OFF FOR FRIENDS AND FAMILY - Each experiment is specially designed to be performed as a magic trick! The included magic wand and white gloves let your children dress the part, too. Magic for kids has never been this fun and educational!
- EVEN THE EXPERIMENT GUIDE IS AWESOME - Our one-of-a-kind experiment guide has illustrated, kid-friendly instructions as well as insight into the science that creates the magic, techniques used by real scientists, and loads of fascinating facts!
- EVERYTHING YOU NEED - Sometimes science kits leave you searching for tools to conduct the experiments. Not this kit! You get all the tools you need for each of the experiments, so the magical science fun can start the moment you open the box!
- HIGH-QUALITY EDUCATIONAL TOYS - We're proud to make the highest quality hands-on science toys, and all our products are backed by exceptional service. If your experience is less than stellar, let us know and we'll make things right!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The air in my salon—what the humans insist on calling the "living room"—shifted. It was a subtle change, a new scent profile cutting through the usual notes of lavender-scented cleaner and my human's expensive coffee. It was the smell of ozone and faint, acrid potential. I was roused from a perfectly good nap in a sunbeam, my tail twitching in annoyance. On the low table, a scene was unfolding. The small human, adorned in absurdly tiny white gloves, was arranging beakers and powders like some sort of miniature, clumsy alchemist. My initial assessment was one of profound skepticism. They were performing "tricks" from a colorful manual, the most ludicrous of which involved a small pile of white, crystalline dust. The small one, wielding a plastic wand with all the grace of a falling bookshelf, mumbled some incantation before pouring water into the beaker. With a soft *foomph*, the powder erupted, expanding into a mountain of fluffy, white material that looked uncannily like the cold, wet misery that sometimes falls from the sky. I remained impassive on my rug, observing. This was "magic snow," they chirped. I've seen real snow. It's an abomination that melts and gets my paws damp. This imposter held no appeal. The spectacle concluded, and the humans, with their fleeting attention spans, wandered off to find snacks. The beaker of "snow," however, remained. My curiosity, a beast that rarely sleeps for long, began to stir. I leaped silently onto the table for a closer inspection. It didn't radiate cold. It had no discernible scent beyond the initial chemical tang, which had now faded. I extended a single, perfect claw and gently prodded the substance. It was bizarre. It was soft, lighter than air, and yielded with a dry, pleasant crunch. It was nothing like the real thing. I dipped my nose in, sniffing deeply. Nothing. I gave it a tentative pat with my paw, sending a small cloud billowing into the air. The particles caught the light from the window, a swirling galaxy of artificial frost. This was not an affront to nature; it was a textural masterpiece. In a flash of inspiration, I plunged my face into the beaker, emerging with a magnificent white beard that dusted my tuxedo front. I looked in the reflection of the darkened television screen. Dashing. This was not a toy for chasing, but an accessory. A prop for my own silent, elegant dramas. The verdict was in: this "magic" had its merits, provided it was used to properly accentuate my natural gravitas.
