The intrepid Pickwickians, always willing to quest into unchartered lands for knowledge, braved a science experiment this week. Mrs. Pickwick does not conduct science experiments on a very regular basis, having an unfortunate lack of forethought and apparently the only pantry that is never stocked with “everyday things everyone has in the kitchen.” The usual scientific method in our humble abode is something like this:

1. Read lab directions.
2. Hypothesize about what would happen if we followed the lab directions.
3. Teacher only: Vividly imagine the state of the kitchen if we did in fact suggest to four small Pickwicks that they drop various sized rocks into pans of flour to discover how craters form from meteorites. Recoil in horror from the absolute certainty that the small Pickwicks would become a meteor shower of astronomical proportions. Also realize that we are out of flour.
4. Encourage creative critical thinking as we Imagine the experiment taking place right this very minute.
5. Record findings in lab book.

However, acutely aware that theoretical lab reports will get somewhat tedious for our end of the year portfolio evaluator, we took a different approach this week and transformed our kitchen into a real lab with an actual experiment. And so, without further ado, we proudly present to you our findings, which I am quite sure will take the greater scientific community by storm:

Non-living vs Living Characteristics

Day One

1. Place three small pieces of gravel in a jar, cover with water, and label “A.”
   • Small Pickwick, in process of being educated: “Mommy, I know they are not living. They are rocks. In three days, they will still be rocks. They are just wet rocks, mommy.”
   • Mrs Pickwick, willing to do anything in the name of science save cover the kitchen in a meteor shower of baking ingredients: “Yes, right, that is a solid hypothesis. Just label the jar ‘A,’ now.”
   • Small P: “Why ‘A’? ‘Rock’ doesn’t start with ‘A.’ I think we should label it ‘R.’ Or ‘N,’ for ‘Not Alive At All.'”
   • Mrs P, slightly regretting having educated the small Pickwick to the point of literacy: “Just label it ‘A.’ It is to tell it apart from ‘B,’ which we are about to get to and will be different from ‘A’ because they are pea seeds and that’s just how you do it in science.”
   • Small P, miffed but compliant: “Do the science people in this book think I can not tell the difference between rocks and pea seeds? I picked up the rocks myself. I know them very well. This one is the most special, and this one was next to it, and I’m not going to just forget my rocks.”
2. Place 3 pea seeds in a jar, cover with water, and label “B.”
   • Small Pickwick: “Those aren’t pea seeds. Those are chia seeds. The package says so, Mommy.”
   • Mrs. P (greatly regretting having educated the small Pickwick to the point of literacy), in a stage whisper, so the science people in the book do not overhear: “Just pretend they are pea seeds, or pretend that the book says chia seeds. I am pretty sure it will work out the same since they are both seeds.”
   • Small Pickwick, rolling her eyes in a way that only Mrs Pickwick herself could achieve but a few short years ago: “I thought we were not using our imagination today, Mommy. And I don’t think it will work because they do not look at all like rocks. The pea seeds in the picture are bigger and maybe someone else could get confused. But the chia seeds do not look one bit like my rocks.”
3. Draw a picture of today’s observations.

Day Two

1. Observe “A” and “B.” Notice that rocks are still rocks, and still wet. Another miniature rendition of Mrs Pickwick’s signature eye-roll, beautifully executed.
2. Notice that chia seeds look like little legless jellyfish, not just wet chia seeds.
3. Draw today’s observations, and confidently conjecture that this must be what chia seeds look like right before they sprout.

Days Three-Six

1. Forget that we were doing an experiment, because we have just discovered a great online resource for historical paper dolls and fully expect to be side-tracked, educationally, for several days.

Day Seven

1. Check “A” and “B” for progress. “A” continuing to make an excellent showing as the premier wet rock exhibit. “B” looking very much like legless jellyfish and smelling much the same, if legless jellyfish smell like rank chia seeds, that is.
2. Begin to be suspicious that the expensive, organic, untouched-by-anything-but-nature’s-gentle-kisses-in-the-dewy-morning-stillness-of-Eden chia seeds have actually been sprayed by a chemical to prevent them from sprouting.
3. Conduct brief research on the sly (Small Pickwick busy deciding if it would be acceptable for a paper doll of the Victorian era to be the child of the Emperor Justinian and Theodora. Her clothes do not match, but she is just the right size.) Google “chia seed germination time” and feel a glimmer of pride in my vocabulary choice, must be nice for Google to get to hear from people like me. Pride bubble bursts when the first answer appears on a blog called Preparednessmama and four succinct pages explain just why one must actually build a custom terra cotta greenhouse to sprout chia seeds. Wonder if Preparednessmama has ever spilled her tea.
4. Consider swapping out chia seeds for lentils and hope Small Pickwick doesn’t notice. Not a chance. We are educating someone who names rocks.
5. Feign great excitement while requesting Small Pickwick to sketch legless jellyfish a second time and explain how the nauseating odor coming from the seeds does in fact prove their liveliness, just not as pleasantly as perhaps, say, sprouting.

Day Eight

1. Replace chia seeds with lentils. Because we are going to sprout Something to prove it is alive, if it kills us.

Day Twelve

1. One, lone, tiny green sprout shoots above sixteen lentils in Jar “C” and reaches for freedom.
2. Rocks still very wet.
3. Small Pickwick ceremoniously plants lentil in garden, during the opportune growing season of late-fall in the midwest.