I Tried to Teach My Kid Simple Machines This Weekend and Actually Had Fun (Here’s What Actually Stuck)
Last Thursday, my 8-year-old stumbled in the door after school, dropped his backpack directly on the pile of clean laundry I’d just folded, and spilled a half-eaten bag of cheddar goldfish all over the couch cushion. “We got a science project,” he said, shoving crumbs off his shirt. “Six simple machines, due Monday. We need to make a poster.” I stared at him, brain blank. I could name maybe one? Lever? That was it. The last time I thought about simple machines was tenth grade physical science, and I spent that class doodling on my notebook, so that tracks.
I almost panicked, almost ordered a pre-made science kit that would show up tomorrow and cost twenty bucks for stuff we’d throw away next week. Then I remembered the kid down the street got in trouble last month for turning in a project his dad did for him, so I figured we’d just wing it. Walk around the house and the neighborhood, find all six, no fancy parts needed. Turned out it was way more fun than I thought it’d be.
First up was the lever. We were standing in the kitchen, me digging through the fridge for a snack for him, and he tried to pry open a jar of dill pickles that I’d tightened too much. He jammed a butter knife under the lid, pushed down, and pop it came open. “Oh,” I said. “That’s a lever! That’s one.” I explained it’s just something stiff that pivots on a little point called a fulcrum, and it lets you move heavy stuff with way less oomph. He thought that was pretty boring until we walked to the park later and saw the seesaw. Oh right, that’s a lever too. When he sits on one end, I barely have to push the other to lift him up. We also found another one on the picnic table: the bottle opener I used to pop a seltzer for me. Turns out levers are everywhere, you just don’t notice them. He almost dropped the pickle jar on the floor while he was demonstrating it, got a tablespoon of brine on my kitchen rug. That’s just how these things go.
Next was the pulley. I couldn’t think of one for a minute, then I glanced up at my bedroom blinds when we walked back in. The cord you pull to lift them up and down? That’s a pulley, right? It’s a wheel with a rope around it, lets you pull down to lift something heavy up instead of reaching way above your head. He spent the next five minutes yanking the cord up and down, up and down, the blinds slapping against the window frame. I kept opening my mouth to tell him to stop, that he’d break the cord and I’d have to buy new blinds, but then I shut it. What’s the point of learning if you can’t yank a cord a little? Turns out the flagpole at the entrance of the park is a pulley too, and the big garage door I open every day to get the car out. That one blew his mind a little.
Inclined plane was easy. We have a 10-year-old lab with bad hips that can’t jump up the back step anymore, so we’ve got this lumpy foam ramp leaning against the door that the dog drags his nails on every single day. That’s an inclined plane! Just a slanted surface, right? Instead of lifting the dog straight up three feet, he just walks up a slope. Way easier. The slide at the park is another one, and that hill you have to bike up to get to the ice cream shop? My kid pointed that out, said “Wait that’s an inclined plane too, it just makes me work harder.” Yeah, that’s right, I said. Machines don’t always make things easier if you’re going the wrong way. That’s a good life lesson, actually, I guess.
Wedge was the one I almost messed up. I was gonna say an axe, but that’s not something we have lying around the house for an 8-year-old to poke at. Then I grabbed an apple to cut for a snack, and the edge of the knife? That’s a wedge! It’s two inclined planes stuck together, and it cuts or splits stuff apart. He grabbed the knife, cut his apple, and a chunk flew off, hit our cat Mochi right on the back, and Mochi bolted under the dining table, knocked over my favorite ceramic mug. It didn’t break, thank god, but we had to mop coffee off the floor for ten minutes. Also, our doorstop that’s shaped like a fat orange cat? That’s a wedge too! It shoves under the door to keep it from moving. My kid thought it was hilarious that our cat-shaped doorstop was a machine. Mochi never came out for an hour after the apple incident, so that’s that.
Wheel and axle was the one that surprised me. I was like, duh, the wheels on his scooter. Then I found out the doorknob is a wheel and axle! The big round part you turn with your hand is the wheel, the little rod inside that turns the latch is the axle. I’ve turned doorknobs every day for 30-some years and never thought that was a machine. That’s wild, right? He went around the whole house turning every doorknob just to test it. I guess that’s the theme of the weekend, just touching every thing in the house.
Last one was the screw. Turns out it’s just an inclined plane wrapped around a little rod, that’s it. The obvious example is the actual screws holding our dining table leg together — it’s been loose for months, so we grabbed a screwdriver and tightened it up, that was a good bonus. But the best everyday example is the lid on the peanut butter jar. The ridges on the inside of the lid are a screw, right? You twist it, it pulls up or pushes down, way easier than just prying it straight off. My kid’s water bottle cap? That’s a screw too. Who thinks about that?
We ended up just gluing printed out pictures of all these things onto a cheap poster board I had in the closet. Wrote little notes next to each one: pickle jar lever, blind cord pulley, dog ramp inclined plane. It wasn’t fancy, no 3D moving parts like the one I saw another kid post on the class Instagram. My kid got an A anyway, said his teacher thought it was cool that we found all examples around the house.
The poster’s been on the fridge for a week, until this morning when Mochi jumped up, knocked it off, stepped on it right where we glued the picture of the pickle jar, got tuna grease all over the lever label. It’s leaning by the trash can right now, I haven’t thrown it away yet.
I keep thinking about it, though. I always thought kid science projects were just a hassle, something to check off the list so you don’t get an email from the teacher. Turns out it’s just… looking at the stuff you use every day differently. Now when I open a peanut butter jar, or turn a doorknob, or pull up the blinds, I think “oh right, that’s a machine. I use six simple machines before I even leave the house most days.”
I still don’t remember anything else from tenth grade physical science, but this? This stuck. I guess that’s good enough.
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