My nine year old sleeps with the covers pulled over his head. I just woke him up a little bit ago so he could see the lunar eclipse. In his groggy state he asked me what would happen when Mars collides with the moon in ten years. I gathered that he read this interesting prediction somewhere. Perhaps a science fiction journal of some type. I don’t think we need to worry about that now, says I, ever so gently. His eyes gradually widen as he watches the earth’s shadow creep along the big cheese. “Wow! Mommy that’s cool!” He exclaims. Then he bounds back into bed. Up go the covers, like the earth’s shadow passing over the moon.
I snuggle in with him, like a spoon, and his bare shoulder smells so good to me that I press my lips against its sweet softness. This youngest child of mine stirs my heart. This morning, when I woke him for school, he sat straight up in his bed and blinked in the light. “Mommy, do you know that if there was an ocean big enough, and all the planets fell into it, that Saturn would be the only one that would float?” He says this before he is fully awake, as if planets have been falling into oceans all night in his dreams.
Where do these things come from? It fills me with wonder and joy all at once.
The dreaming under the covers must come from another world. Perhaps from outer space.