
You can touch me, but I can’t touch you back. You can see me, but I only reflect you and can never reject you. What am I?
I can travel at nearly 100 miles per hour, but never leave the room. You can cover me up, but that doesn’t slow me down. You will not know if I come only once or again and again and again. What am I?
People have stepped on me, but not many. I never stay full for long. I have a dark side. What am I?
I am always running, but never get tired or hot. What am I?
I have a head much smaller than my long neck. People who play with me pick at me and that’s fine. What am I?
I look like you, but I am not you. You can blow me up or find me in a wallet. Share me or frame me, both are nice. What am I?
I sound like I could cut you, but I’m actually quite comfortable. I can be green or yellow. I can be stiff or soft. I am a friend to bugs and also bare feet. What am I?
I can be red or blue—I am always changing. I can ruin your day or lift you up. I am always with you except when you sleep. What am I?
I have a stem, but I am not a flower. I have a foot, but I cannot hop. Children are too young to hold me. What am I?
I have seven rings made of rock and ice, but you cannot wear them on your fingers. They are way, way too big. What am I?