“Snap!” “Pop!” Pull… Stretch...“Snap!” No, there isn’t a geriatric exercise class going on. It’s just my kids playing with homemade slime . And this summer, from morning until night, these are the sounds I am privy to as they poke, knead, roll, expand and shape it… for hours.
This is the latest craze among tweens. Just when I thought bottle flipping would send me over the edge as the most annoying habit of all time; today, its slime. Boys and girls alike are spending their time, money, and, if you ask me, making a gigantic mess. Colors ranging from aquamarine to sunny yellow, lavender and even scented sweet orange. I’ve seen it all. Maybe you’ve been at Walmart and wondered, “What in the world kind of school project requires THIS MUCH glue?”
THIS is your answer: Children everywhere are making homemade slime in their parent’s kitchen, back deck, in the garage, bathroom, or even in their own bedroom. I’ve even heard rumors of glue shortages because of the demand!
Ironically, many of these children whole heartedly promise to “clean it up afterward”. Meanwhile, clumps of leftover slime, powdery Borax, shaving cream, lotion, food coloring and whatever else they decide to put in their concoctions are left behind for their unsuspecting mothers to discover.
My scientist-wanna-be's love to mix scents creating such overpowering aromas, my eyes water from nausea. “Can we open up a window in here? Your Eucalyptus-peach-chocolate scented slime is about to make me lose my breakfast.”
Years ago, I thought Play-Doh was corrupt. When my kids were preschool age, I relented, letting them play with it, as long as they followed the rules. 1. No mixing colors- for obvious reasons of course. 2. No eating it. 3. Play-Doh is only allowed at the kitchen table. I could barely handle watching, as my kids played… pieces falling on the floor, or finding its way underneath fingernails. But once the kids outgrew that phase, I relaxed… until now.
I will admit that when I was 12, I watched the Nickelodeon TV game show “Double Dare”, and wished to be a contestant along with the rest of my middle school friends. Being “slimed” did seem somewhat appealing.
But there’s a big difference when you get a text message from your 13-year-old daughter letting you know that her glob of coral colored gunk accidentally slid onto her bedroom carpet and she doesn’t know how to get it out.
Or finding a pair of your son’s shorts or your favorite dish cloth in the trash because it’s covered in slime and he didn’t know how to wash it off. And by the way, where are all of my Tupper ware and Ziploc containers? Oh, I see. They are being used by my children, filled with 18 different colors, scents and textures of slime.
Yes, textures…my kids thin it’s creative to add various consistencies to their slime like beads, sequins, glitter, (Why was this even invented?), and some horrible manmade product called “Floam”. (Again, why?) My life has become a constant treasure hunt as I find these special gems left behind, wherever my kids and their slime venture. I’m so stressed out. My husband lovingly suggests I take a nice relaxing bath or shower, but I can’t. My kids used up all my scented shower gel and lotion for their latest batch of slime.
My only hope is that this is simply a phase, short lived like the Kendama, or fidget spinner. Then, it will be on to something else. Until that time, you’ll find me at a recommended kickboxing class for my anger management.
My son at a slime themed birthday party. Clearly, his homemade batch went awry.