Foam Rock

When I was a child of seven years, I had in my possession an object that held both untold mystery and unlimited potential for laughter. Looking as genuine as any of its sedimentary, metamorphic, and yes even igneous brethren, but manufactured from consumer-grade polyurethane, it was my precious foam rock. I purchased my foam rock at a local gag gift store with money I had saved by not spending it. The structure of this faux mineral cluster was daringly cattywampus; its surfaces placed at jaunty angles with irregular interruptions.