My poor kiddo. He has to deal with me and my randomness**. Luckily, he’s at the age (11) where he’ll still indulge me a little. I don’t think I have many more years of this left.
We were sitting outside on the deck behind our house one day recently, and I decided to ask him what he thought being in space would be like.
Kiddo: “Everything would be inverted and going to the bathroom would be weird because you have to wear a strap…”
Me: “A strap?”
Kiddo: “A thing to strap you down.”
Me: “Oh! That kind of strap. DON’T MOVE… I need to get something to start writing this down to take notes.”
Once again, the kiddo indulged me and DIDN’T MOVE. Like, he was eating something and deliberately FROZE himself until I got back.
Me: “Uh, you could have continued to eat.”
Kiddo: <shrugs shoulders. Takes a bite of his sandwich.>
Me: “So what else do you think about being in space?”
Kiddo: “Correct me if I’m wrong but you can only eat mashed foods?”
Me: “Well no, not today. That was true in the early days of spaceflight.”
I was about to launch into telling him everything I know about this, including how we send fresh food and fruit up to the ISS on re-supply missions, but was worried I was going to lose his attention. We’ll cover that if he asks.
Me: “What else do you think about when you think about outer space?”
Kiddo then walked over as I was typing notes on my phone and asked if this was for my book. I told him I thought this could be a blog post. “Cool,” he said, as nonchalantly as is possible for a pre-teen.
Kiddo: “Lots of planets and stuff, lots of stuff to be discovered.”
Me: “If you were going into space, what would you take with you?”
At this point, my hubby sat down with us. “Mom is interviewing me,” the kiddo says. “Um, you’re not videoing this?” my hubby responded, looking at the fact that we’re all pretty much still in pajamas even though it’s the late afternoon. Late afternoon in not-quite-pandemic-over times, so pajamas are now anytime wear. “No, no video,” I say as I hurry to catch up typing my notes. I can do this on my phone, but I’m not as fast as I am on a traditional QWERTY keyboard.
Me: “If you were going into space, what would you take with you?”
Kiddo: “Something to communicate to call my parents?”
Me thinking: Awwwwww. Just a few more years of this… if I’m lucky.
Me: “But what if we were going with you?”
Kiddo: “Well you said what would I take…”
Me: “But I didn’t say who was going with you. We could be with you.”
Hubby: “I’m NOT going into space.”
Kiddo then launches into an ordered list of his electronics. I’m thinking that there is either going to be plenty of power because in this fictional scenario we are on a spaceship of the future where power generation isn’t possible, or the kiddo is going to be sorely disappointed when I tell him there’s not enough to power all his gaming devices and he’s going to have to choose one.
Me: “So tell me more about space.”
Kiddo: “The planets all have their own unique pattern.”
Me: “Pattern?”
Kiddo: “Well, they’re all unique.”
Me: “Which one would you visit?”
Kiddo: “Would I be able to come back?” <sneeze – it’s spring-time and we’re outside and he suffers from seasonal allergies on this world.> “Would I have oxygen?”
Me: “Well, of course! Yes to both questions.”
Kiddo: “Then probably Mars.”
Me: “Why?”
Kiddo: “It’s cool because it’s red. And there could be aliens.”
Me: “Don’t you think we would have found aliens?”
Kiddo: “Well, they could have advanced technology that could make their towns seem invisible to us.”
Me: “Good point. I wonder if NASA checked for the existence of cloaking devices.”
And that’s when the interview ended. The flavor ice truck was making a stop up the road and that took priority for kiddo and hubby and I was left to deal with the toddler who isn’t old enough for such deep conversations. Yet. Your turn will come, little one…
By then, I’ll have given a lot more thought to the existence of alien cloaking technology on Mars, or the Moon, or at a Lagrange point between Earth and the Sun. I’m actually already planning interview part 2 with the kiddo… get ready… bwahahaha!
(** My poor hubby. He has to deal with me and my randomness. Luckily, he’s at the age (early 40s) where he’ll still indulge me, mostly by reading these blog posts before I publish them…)
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