The Angry Planet

The Angry Cracked Planet is displayed on a vintage
1957 National Geographic Society map of The Heavens.

I picked the boys up from school and finally brought in the paper mache planet that had been orbiting the back seat. My six-year old, Ewan, had been very proud of his handy work. He elaborated on each layer -- paper, then glue, then paint, then paper, then glue...

We arrived home and casually laid the red sphere on the coffee table caught up in the dog's greeting and shouts to find daddy. In the meantime, my two-year old (Asher) zeroed in on what looked like a basketball. Red? Orange? What's the difference when you're still learning your colors? He proceeds to dribble the "ball." There's not a lot of bounce to paper mache. Crack. Crackkkkk.

Ewan rounds the corner from the bathroom, bellows out an "Ashhhherr" and turns beet red with shaking fists at his sides. Asher launches into a fit of tears at the sight of this angry outburst and Ewan launches into a fit of tears at the sight of his damaged planet. I squat in the middle of the wailing. The roar of the waterfall. Overwhelmed, I would like to cry to, but refrain.

After many hugs, discussion on anger management, forgiveness and somehow icecream worked its way into the conversation, we circle back to the wounded red mass I'm still cradling. How did that go again?

Paper, then glue, then paint, then...