Dry ice

So, most people, when they get Omaha Steaks in the mail (Thanks, Grandmerr and Grandpa!), they probably heed the strident warnings on the dry ice wrapper and set it outside and let the gas dissipate safely. Am I right? Is that what most people do? Hmm. Well, that's not what chemistry teacher-moms do. We had a gas with the dry ice! (Pun fully intended.) At first we were just putting it in a bowl of water and making it sing with a butter knife, which was plenty cool.

This reminded Rachel of witches, so she went inside to get hats for herself and Nathan. They looked pretty witchy. Still quite fun, right?

But then I did read the strident warnings, one of which cautioned against putting the dry ice in an airtight container. Brilliant! (Thinks the chemistry teacher, specially trained in knowing when to heed such warnings and how to flout them safely.) So then we started putting bits of it in film canisters and watching as the lids flew as high as the peak of our roof. It was pretty awesome.

A couple of caveats here: When I say "We" were doing these things, I mean that I was doing them, with my small-fry audience firmly seated out of harm's way. (The photo of them near the film canisters was staged, with the lids off, so no explosions were imminent.) I am trying to walk that fine line between stimulating their curiosity and teaching them to be inquisitive little folks (and sharing awesome chemistry demos with them) on the one hand and making them fearless, careless, danger-prone individuals. Here's hoping it works out, on balance! Okay, enough with the safety soliloquy for now. It was way cool!