Wind experiments and a spray can of cheese, and thus a love of science begins

I’ve always been a scientist at heart. From a very early age I was fascinated with space and biology and just about anything I could get my hands on. Carl Sagan and Nikola Tesla were my Michael Jordan and Wayne Gretzky. My days were like the TV show “Mythbusters” only with less explosions. And after the last few weeks, I can see my boys are well on their way to follow in my footsteps.

The first time I saw this scientific inclination was just after the recent 40 days and nights of rain. The sun was out, the windows were down and the car filled with cut-grass-scented air. On the highway, wind buffeted us violently, but we were all so happy to see the sun again no one cared. My two oldest boys were in the very back of our station wagon, watching the world speed away from them. The air flowing into the car circulates wildly in the back, and the boys love it: their hair flies this way and that and they giggle as we travel. So much better than the bickering I hear when the windows are up and they’re bored.

An empty shopping bag was in the back of the car with them, and the wind caught it, showing us all exactly how wildly the air was flowing. It whipped around the boys, faster and faster until it wrapped itself around one of their seat belts. This caused them to erupt with laughter, grab the bag and send it flying. Again and again they got the bag into the air until the poor bag finally escaped their torture and jumped into the back seat, hiding down under my chair.

The collective sigh that signaled all the fun in the world was dead echoed through the car until Big Bits, our 6-year-old, grabbed some paper from his backpack and sent it into the air. It flew about too, not quite as crazily as the bag but it was still fun. Someone in Big Bit’s kindergarten class had recently taught him about paper airplanes, which of course he loved (what kid doesn’t?), but he still wasn’t 100 percent sure about how to fold paper into an airplane shape. That didn’t stop him from randomly folding paper and seeing if it flew any better. This met with varying degrees of success. Little Bits, who will enthusiastically tell you he’s 4 if you give him half a second, did his big brother one better and just wadded up the paper into a ball. This didn’t work at all.

But that didn’t stop him in the least. Everything in their reach was tossed into the air, from toy cars to their shoes. Little Bits held his teddy bear up in the air several times, each time dropping it to see if his little friend would fly around the car. I think the little bear’s arms and legs wiggling in the wind gave him hope he might just take flight. I knew the observation stage had ended and they were ready for more advanced tests when they found an empty chip bag, and it flew around nearly as well as the shopping bag. And they started preparing for future funding requests when Big Bits said, “Dad, can we stop for some chips? I’m really hungry.”

This wasn’t the only time their minds have shown signs of scientific curiosity. One day at the store I happened to see a can of spray cheese, that cheese-like “food” substance that comes in a can and is easily spread on crackers. I remembered liking it when I was a kid, so why not spread the joy to the next generation?

I took it home and let each of the kids have some on a cracker. Tiny Bits, our 18-month-old, took the first one and although none actually made it into his mouth, he did have fun with it (took me forever to get it out of his hair). Little Bits took one, barely licked it and politely put it back on the table. I don’t know if he’s the smartest one of us, but he might have the best taste.

To Big Bits, this was a revelation, a whole new world of flavor opened up before him. “I like slimy cheese!” he shouted several times. I had to cut him off before he made himself sick. It was time for bed anyway. As he was brushing his teeth, staring at his reflection in the mirror, he suddenly turned to me.

“Dad, slimy cheese causes freckles.” I stopped getting Tiny Bits dressed and just stared at him.

“What?!” The incredulous “What?!” is said a lot around our house.

“Well, I like slimy cheese and Little Bits doesn’t.”

“Yup,” I agreed.

“And I have freckles and Little Bits doesn’t.” I couldn’t argue with him on this one, at least this close to bed time. I would have liked to sit him down and explain the truth but when our roommate told him she liked slimy cheese too (and, of course, she has freckles as well) that gave him all the proof he needed. Seeing was believing.

I’m going to keep encouraging their apparent love of science and maybe one of them will be the next Einstein or Hawking. Or, if we’re really lucky, the next generation of Mythbusters.

Originally published on Stltoday.com