Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in a fit of what they call "intellectual curiosity," has acquired a box of... rocks. Fancy rocks, apparently, from a brand called National Geographic, which I believe is a television channel I occasionally watch when a particularly slow-moving gazelle is featured. The premise is appallingly crude: the biped is meant to put on silly-looking glasses and smash these spheres with a hammer, revealing sparkly bits inside. While the deafening ruckus of this "geology" will surely interrupt at least one of my seventeen daily naps, I concede there may be some collateral benefits. The pre-smashed rocks have a decent rollable quality, and the tiny, sharp fragments that will inevitably skitter across the floor after the great cataclysm will provide a few moments of stimulating, high-speed chase. Ultimately, it’s a project requiring far too much of their attention, which could be better spent admiring my perfect, soft gray fur.
Key Features
- DISCOVER CRYSTAL TREASURE - Break open these rocks to reveal amazing crystals inside! Geology doesn’t get more exciting than breaking open rocks and finding crystal treasures. This great STEM activity makes an excellent gift for girls and boys!
- COLORFUL VARIETY – Geodes can form with a wide variety of crystals inside. These geodes have been hand-selected to bring you the best variety available.
- 100% NATURAL GEODES – These real specimens may be as big as a tennis ball, or as small as a ping-pong ball. Kids will love the thrill of cracking them open to see the natural beauty inside. This STEM activity emphasizes fun and discovery!
- 16 PAGE FULL-COLOR LEARNING GUIDE – You’ll learn all about the fascinating science behind how geodes are formed in the detailed, full-color Learning Guide. National Geographic educational toys make science and learning fun, and are the perfect STEM gifts for boys and girls!
- 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 box did not smell of prey or of catnip. It smelled of deep, cold stone and the dust of millennia. My human laid the contents out on the floor with a reverence usually reserved for the opening of a fresh can of tuna. Ten gray, lumpy orbs, a pair of transparent face-shields that were an insult to eyewear everywhere, and two flimsy plastic pedestals. My human called it a "science kit." I knew better. These were the Eggs of Time, and my simple-minded staff was about to perform the Rite of Cracking. I observed from my strategic perch on the back of the sofa, my tail giving a slow, metronomic twitch. The human selected the first Egg, a specimen roughly the size of a respectable mouse, and placed it within a discarded sock—a truly barbaric vessel for such a momentous task. They donned the ridiculous goggles, hefted a hammer, and brought it down. The sound wasn't merely loud; it was a fracture in the fabric of the immediate future. A sharp, definitive CRACK that sent a shiver through my whiskers. The human peeled back the sock with a gasp of delight, cooing over the "purple crystals." The fool. They saw fractured quartz; I saw a clear and undeniable prophecy. The large, singular shard pointing left signified an unscheduled trip to the vet in the coming week. The cluster of smaller, paler crystals near the top was an omen of a late dinner tomorrow night, by at least forty-five minutes. The fine, sugary druzy coating the interior? That foretold a spill of kibble on the kitchen floor, a bounty I would graciously claim. They placed the broken halves on one of the cheap plastic stands, a monument to their ignorance. They were merely the instrument, the clumsy hand of fate, while I was the Oracle who must interpret the signs. They moved to the next Egg, eager for another pretty bauble. I sighed, the weight of my knowledge settling upon my tuxedoed chest. This was no toy. It was a burden. A series of stone-cold reports on the state of my world, delivered in the most cacophonous way imaginable. It was, I decided, a worthy endeavor, if only for the critical intelligence it provided. I would allow the smashing to continue. For now.