The chairs are comfy tonight and she asks me what is philosophy.

"Asking questions that don’t have an answer and all your answers are going to be wrong to many people," I say and look up. "There's a man on the moon, I can finally see him tonight Ella."

I always saw the moon as a rock. Only now can I return the smile to the cheesy man staring down at us. Ella bites the peach in her small hands and laughs at me. She knows something I don’t.

"He’s inside."
"Who?"
"The man, he’s inside."
"All alone?"

"Yes, and her laugh falters . The sun is his friend and he takes care of us when the sun is gone."
"How do you know? Does he have a mum like you?" My questions don't bug her but push her to more. She peeks from time to time toward the man sitting all alone inside the sky as if whispering responses to me.

She will always know something far more interesting than me, and I smile. Her eyes shimmer back galaxies and preschool cannot contain the wit in them.

The spaceman has me frowning now and I wonder if he ever had a mum.

What a lonely lonely life to watch a lonely world with Ella giggling it all away to make the spaceman happy again.