As a young kid I liked setting fires and blowing things up.
Fires were often started by getting a can of WD-40, lighting the end of the straw and spraying. Instant flame thrower.
The blowing things up was a little more involved. Plastic model cars had firecrackers placed in crevices. I meticulously emptied Tylenol capsules and dipped them in a can of gasoline to make little gas tanks, which then had toothpicks inserted to act as slow-burning wicks. All things considered, I can out unscathed and with hearing intact. My dad as a kid was equally lucky. While using an M-80 to splash a sink full of water, blew the whole thing up instead, sending pieces of porcelain flying. He too managed not even a scratch.
So, there seems to be a family tendency to pyromania and explosives. The solution? The kid is going to Summer Explosives Camp! Where was this when I need it most?
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And no matter the gender of future kids, this will be bought when the need arises...
The Dangerous Book for Boys | Conn Iggulden, Hal Iggulden
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