Elizabeth: "Mom, can I have baking powder, cinnamon, cocoa powder, glue, water and a pair of insect wings?"
Me: "I can help you with the first 4 ingredients, the water's in the faucet, and well, you're on your own with the insect wings."
Elizabeth has been in a concoction-making phase lately. Most of the concoctions I don't mind, as long as she doesn't try to appropriate any of my more expensive ingredients. With an admonishment to "not make a mess", I mostly leave her to her own devices although it can be funny to watch, smell and wash the containers of her more elaborate medleys.
I did have to put a stop to the plundering of the kitchen glassware as I kept finding Finn's small glasses laying in mud puddles in the backyard. Her handy solution was a request that we stop by Goodwill for a small glass container of her own. She spent 20 minutes checking out every container available before settling on the one to become her cauldron. A bit of black paint and her cauldron was fit for any manner of potion.
Of course, it's not satisfactory to merely own a cauldron. One needs a good potion book to brew a proper elixir. When I inquired as to the purpose of the potions, she gave me a questioning look.
"What are you trying to accomplish?" I asked. "Are you making a potion for turning pesky little brother sweet or a potion to make a new fascinating book appear?" My questions were impatiently answered with, "Mom! These potions aren't magic! They are just potions to see what happens when you mix certain things."
So there you have it. One part witch's brew, one part scientific inquiry. But always in a cauldron, of course.
She recently remembered the many times in the past that we've made slime. "Mom, may I please have the recipe for slime?" I decided to give her the ingredients but not the recipe. "Just mix them together and see when the slime appears," I shrugged.
She might have added a bit too much borax because instead of slime she had a gelatinous blob that resembled a rubber bouncing ball. But if I had given her the recipe, she wouldn't know what happens when you add a bit more borax than glue.
On a somewhat related note, Elizabeth's class was supposed to bring home a grid showing the amount of screen time they view this week. Elizabeth told me about the paper, then mentioned nonchalantly, "but I left mine at school because we don't really watch things or play video games." I couldn't help but think how glad I am that our family chooses to largely forego screen time because who would make a cauldron and swipe my kitchen ingredients if a screen were blaring in the background.