There I was — on a perfectly normal Saturday morning, barefoot, half-caffeinated, and knee-deep in what can only be described as a domestic excavation project .
I was trying to fish out a rogue LEGO (because yes, even at 35, I still step on them) when my hand brushed something… strange.
It was lumpy. Sticky. Crunchy? Covered in dust and mystery.
At first, I thought it was a dead mouse.
No joke.
But then I looked closer — really looked — and there it was, clinging to the back of our shelf like it had been waiting patiently for years.
Old Floam.
You know, that weird, stretchy, crumbly substance we used to play with in elementary school — right between the erector set and the Tamagotchi that died in shame.
And just like that, I was 8 again.
Let’s take a trip down memory lane — through the dusty, sticky, slightly crunchy lens of childhood toys gone wrong (or right).
🧪 What Is Floam?
