I dreamed of parabolas last night. Arcs tracing a path from artillery to target. I need no help from Carl Jung to figure these out. We went camping on the weekend, with Crash and the Boy and an assortment of their friends. We went white water rafting, we ate camping food, we tied knots, we slept in tents, we forewent showers and we practiced many new skills, most of them having to do with shooting things or fire or both.
Crash has known MacGyver since kindergarten, though they are now in different high schools. I'm cooking dinner on Saturday night when I notice MacGyver carefully cleaning the Saran wrap which had been over the brownies, then scrounging up a rubber band and an empty Gatorade bottle. "What are you making?" I wondered as he started cutting off the bottom of the bottle with his knife. (Meanwhile, I'm sitting on my maternal urge to say "don't cut yourself with that knife!" as it is clear the young man is expert.) "You'll see."
He puts a long stick in the fire, blows it out, then sticks it into the open mouth of the bottle. (Now I'm sitting on the nerd's urge to say, "Be careful you don't burn a hole in the bottle.") I'm still clueless as to what the device he's created will do. He taps the smoke filled bottle on the saran wrap and voila, a perfect smoke ring comes out. Cool!
Cooler yet were the artillery made from ziploc bags. (Instructions for the device shown in the photo are here for the curious.) The downside of these? The ammunition. Do not use rocks. Marshmallows. We have plenty. You will not lack for s'mores. It's a good thing Crash has a hard head (to match his hard bones).
Wondering why this post is tagged Jesuits? MacGyver is getting a good Jesuit education. It's where he learned to build that ziploc projectile launcher. AMDG.