TWINKIE WATCH: Day Thirteen!

Today, in Science, I have helpers, and also a MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT!

First, the helpers: This being Sunday, the Babies! and I are in the office for our usual hour-or-two stop here on our way to something that's more fun than that.

Now, before the MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT, I have a confession to make: Last night, I dreamed about the Twinkie. And also Superman. And I hate hearing about people's dreams, but you don't have to read this, unless you want to find out what's going on with the Twinkie and haven't yet realized you could simply page down, so here is my

Scientific report of the dream about the Twinkie and Superman:

In my dream, the Twinkie was molding! It was rotting away and there was nothing I could do about it and a cherished piece of American belief was going by the wayside, the way Americans used to believe baseball was fun but no longer do.

Also in my dream, there was a ballroom dance competition and Superman was there, and he and I were on pretty friendly terms, as when I stopped dancing with Sweetie and went to the sideline, Superman was there, and we had this exchange:

Superman: Hi.

Me: Hey, Supes.

That's pretty much exactly how it will go in real life when I meet Supes. Also, I'm not sure that the two portions of the dream were related.

So here is today's Science, with background helpers:




The helpers are in the background because although I tried to get them interested in Science (by holding out the SOLO Plate Of Science to them, as you can see) they were uninterested in that and chose, instead, to watch their video, which is Baby Einstein's Discovering Shapes, or, as Mr Bunches calls it, "Circle!"

The helpers might have been more interested had they realized that I would have a MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT, which is this:

I touched the Twinkie!

It's true:





I can report to you that the Twinkie has developed a carapace like hard shell covering; it feels kind of like a turtle shell. Or a fingernail. It appeared unharmed by my touching it, and so far my finger is doing fine. The rest of me is also fine, except for the part of my brain which is trying to work out what the Superman/Twinkie dream meant, and also except for the part of my brain that is imagining what powers I might get from touching the Twinkie, and whether that would make me the worst superhero ever.

Or the best.

Day eight is here.