Pudding and Science

Growing up we always ate dinner at the dining room table. This table was full of rituals and events that are conversation pieces today. Dinner was prepared while my dad took a nap. Justin would empty ice trays into the cold plastic bins and refill them, there was none of this lazy pulling one ice cube at a time and only refilling the tray if it is empty in the home of my youth. I would help with preparation. Together we would set the table. We had assigned seats, in fact each of us "owned" on of the four light fixtures, which we were responsible for replacing the burnt out light in. On the setting of the table there were some important notes. The enormous Hulk Hogan cup is to be placed in front of my fathers seat and the salt and pepper need to be in arms length. When the food is done, but has not yet made it to the table we pour the drinks, wake my father and take our places. Upon his arrival he would declare who would be praying and the meal would begin.

This is the backdrop for what I am about to share.

I have always thought I was pretty good at figuring things out. I remember once telling one of those "put a digital picture on a sweatshirt" guys how his machines worked and he seemed so impressed with my natural insight. I suspect now he might have just been amused with this little kid's creativity, but at the time I was just a genius. Anyway, add to this the fact that I just received a copy of Mr. Wizard's Supermarket Science and you have a recipe for a memorable meal.

I don't really remember the table being set or the food being brought out, but what I do remember is, what seemed to me, an enormous bowl of pudding. As you might suspect, this roughly ten year old, was drawn to the dessert. We didn't get dessert everyday, so this was something special. I made sure the pudding was right in front of me. In my mind this pudding is light green Pistachio, but my Mom has told me it was more likely chocolate. Either way, for this meal I am focused on the pudding.

While I'm there getting through my less exciting food, my mind begins to wonder onto one of the Mr. Wizard experiments I had just read about, it was on how water has a kind of skin. It explained that this is how water bugs can cross the creek at my school. Then, as you might image, I am struck at how pudding also has a kind of skin. I lift the pudding spoon from the table and tentatively use it to smack the pudding.

It doesn't splash.

So, I do what any respectable ten year old scientist who is yet unobserved by his parents would do, I smack it harder. It wiggles but holds its shape.

I don't know if I was asked what I was doing, or if I just felt the pressure of great discovery, but I, the one who was good at figuring things out, suddenly needed to share.

"Pudding won't splash!"

Quizzical looks around the table. I was going to teach them something they didn't know.

"No matter how hard you hit it, because of the skin, it won't splash."

Then, I gave it a hit, then a little harder hit. It held it's shape. I could see by their looks, they were not convinced. In fact, these weak hits did lack the conviction of my words.

As it turns out, pudding will indeed splash and a kid with a plastic spoon and a dream can make it go fairly far. I didn't just break the skin, as I remember it, there was an explosion at the moment of impact. I'm pretty sure Hogan wore a little. My mom needed to clean her glasses. Both my brother and I got caught as well.

I'm certain I got into some kind of trouble, but I don't remember it. What I do remember is my shock and the laughs.

To this day, if my brother and I are together and pudding is around, he'll point to the unsuspecting dish and say, "I heard pudding won't splash, no matter how hard you hit it."