“What’s that, Karen?”
She stayed focused on her paper and crayons, brown ringlets hanging motionless as she drew. She finished and handed me the paper.
A clown in a space suit on the moon.
“You’ll see it when you get there, Daddy,” she said. The dog barked and she ran after him.
I was worried I would say something about that clown as I stepped off the lander. “One small step for Clown…”
I looked at Buzz and saw Earth reflecting off his face-shield, cloudy surfaces forming eyes and nose above an Antarctic smile.
“What are you looking at Neil?”
J. Tyler Ruthven has two kids that alternate on an hourly basis in engendering feelings of fury and joy. He would like to create something for them more substantial than TPS reports so works with his fingertips to build stories or with has hands to hammer together slides and beds. Hopefully it will be enough.