Today we flew all the way to school, the whooshing sounds of our flight filling the car for miles. I caught glimpses of the world seen through your eyes. The bright colors stung at first glance, but my eyes are adjusting and expanding my view.

Tomorrow the robots will come and take us on a journey into the far reaches of space. We’ll pack string cheese and raisins and chocolate milk and chicken nuggets for lunch. We should pack enough to share with our new friends—does Voltron like string cheese?

At the edge of the galaxy, farms of fuzzy sheep will count themselves as the Goodnight Train weaves its way home, puffing clouds of cotton candy fueled by cookie coal. We’ll follow the trail back to earth, but we might be a few minutes late for bedtime.

Back home, we’ll gaze on the stars as they play peek-a-boo with the moon—your moon! We’ll count to three, blow a kiss, then tiptoe past the sleeping giant, up, up, up to your room. Time for bed, my sunshine, precious boy whose wonder knows no limits.

I am your willing compatriot of adventure for as long as you’ll have me. Before I rest my weary eyes, I will whisper to the night my plea that you will take me with you, again and again and again and again and again and again and again. To infinity and beyond.

The featured image for this post is Milford Sound under Stars by Trey Ratcliff.