It’s not every day that you find something you can be delighted to call the most disgusting thing you’ve ever seen. The Chia Zombie is that thing. I received one of these at no cost to me in order to zombie this place up a little more. Actually I think they sent it to facilitate my review and also probably to subsidize the mass killing of thousands of tiny, innocent chia seeds before all is said and done. When the box arrived, and I unpacked the product, my three year old looked at it and said, “Oh look! A zombie!” and I immediately declared myself a complete success as a parent. My preschooler has been trained to recognize the zombie apocalypse, so my work here is done. In other words, we were off to a great start before we ever looked inside. He’s also been stealing it and carrying it around the house every time my back is turned, so if you spot any defect in these photos, please be assured that it is the result of excessively rigorous product testing, and not any fault of the manufacturer.
I’m highly critical of the packaging for breakable items. On the one hand, I don’t want my thing to be busted, but on the other hand, I do not want to spend the rest of my life cleaning up the tiny polystyrene pellets shed by cheap packaging inserts, either. Nor do I care for having to peel endless layers of plastic cling wrap from the product as I unpack it. The Chia Zombie is packaged in cardboard inserts which kept it in perfect condition all the way through the shipping process, and that I was able to toss in the recycling bin when all was said and done, so score the packaging a B+.
To plant your chia pet, you first soak the planter an the seeds in water for an hour. Then put the chia seeds on the planter just like you were frosting a cake. All that’s left is to keep the planter full of water and wait for the seeds to sprout. My eldest was surprised to find out that you apply the seeds to the outside- he had envisioned that we would fill the planter with seeds (!) and they would burst forth in their vigor and glory, either by overflowing the watering hole at the top, or by growing through the terra cotta. I’m pretty sure I’m glad neither of those things are going to happen, because a Chia Apocalypse is no less terrifying than a zombie apocalypse.
Brain bonus: Watering the planter every day will mean that when your kid gets to the lesson on “evaporation” at school, it will “click” instantly. First hand, hands on, repeated experience burns concepts into kids brains until you just have to give them words and you are good to go.
Merry Chiapocalypse to you and yours.
