By now, you must have heard about the slime craze. It’s the past year’s trendiest hobby. Kids all over the world are making their own slime. Google “DIY Slime” and you will find slime recipes, tips, and videos. It’s also a huge topic on social media pages. There are literally thousands of Instagram “slime” accounts. Maybe more. Shop on Etsy, and you can actually buy slime other kids made. Like I said, it’s a huge craze.
I can see why. Slime is easy to make, and fun to play with.
The Simple Steps to Make Slime:
Mix Elmer’s Glue with Borax. Maybe throw in a little food coloring… mix it up, and voila! You have SLIME.
There are varieties of slime too. Just add an extra ingredient, and you can also craft varieties like Butter Slime, Crunchy Slime, Floam Slime, Puffy Slime, Jiggly Slime, Glitter Slime… the list is pretty much endless.
It’s stretchy, gooey, colorful, squishy, and well… just plain SLIMY. Sounds like fun, right?
Well… yes, it IS fun. But there is also a dark side to slime that moms don’t often talk about.
The Dark Side of Slime:
First, the MESS. Take a peek in your little ‘creator of slime’s’ “SLIME LAB”, and you will see exactly what I mean.
When you do, your feelings about this fun slime hobby will take a nosedive downhill. Saying it’s messy is like saying kittens are “sort of okay-looking”. Messy is a giant understatement. Sticky, gooey stuff gets dried up on every surface. Glue is spilled, left to dry & harden. And the floor… covered in goop. I’m pretty sure I let out a scream the first time I saw the mess.
My first concern was safety. So I researched and discovered that the basic ingredients are deemed “safe” by many pediatricians. Bummer… I was kind of hoping I’d have a good medical reason why I had to ban slime.
I have to admit I was slightly torn between my hatred for slime and the fact that it could be educational. Some see making slime as a “science experiment”, and “creative”, and hey, let’s face it, making slime is definitely much better than having my tween staring at an iPhone.
So I decided to let her continue with her slime-making quest, but I set some rules. My first rule was to limit the making of slime to one room in the house. Unfortunately, the only available location happened to be my home-office. Bad choice, because the very next day, I discovered slime had oozed off my desk and into my filing cabinet. It had oozed into my stapler. Oozed into my file of “bills to file” (okay, maybe that one wasn’t so bad). But still… oozing slime is bad.
Then… on my way out of my office, I stepped on a pile of raspberry, glitter, galaxy, floam slime and tracked it through the house.
That was officially a bad day.
I went to sleep and had slime-filled nightmares that night. The next morning, I decided that the slime would be limited to ONE TABLE in my office. I felt happy with my decision. I wasn’t stifling my kids’ creative spirit, just helping to keep it in one spot and limit the mess.
Well… that rule lasted for a week. The one table was demolished. Every nook & cranny of it was covered in slimy ooze.
Still, I was on the fence about saying no more slime.
UNTIL… that one day when my daughter begged me to bring just one small container of slime with her on a long car ride we were taking. I agreed. But the next day, when I discovered frozen slime, oozed into my car’s back door compartment. Scraping it out with a butter knife (and silently saying a lot of bad words)… I made the decision.
SLIME IS BANNED.
Officially banned. “Not in my house”, is what I yelled. Not.In.My.House.