John Kendall sat down on the edge of the bed and tousled his son's hair.
"No, son. It's the old _terra firma_ for me. Did you see the rocket
blast?"
"Uh-huh. It was really something. It went to the moon, didn't it?"
"That's right." Kendall smiled and thought. Try to keep a secret from
the kids. It just can't be done. "How's _your_ moon rocket coming along,
son?"
"Pretty good. Gee, Dad! As long as you didn't go, I'm glad I didn't go
either."
"You were planning to make the trip also?"
"Uh-huh. I got into the rocket and was all set but I got to thinking
about Mom--how one of us should stay and take care of her in case
anything happened."
"Smart thinking, son. Now you get to sleep. I'll have a little time
tomorrow. We'll play some ball."
"That will be keen!"
John Kendall smiled as he left the bedroom. Kids were wonderful! Give
them a few old boards and a steering wheel and they could build a ship
to fly to the moon. What a wonderful dream world they lived in!
Too bad they had to grow out of it.
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Imagination_ April 1956. Extensive
research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on
this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical
errors have been corrected without note.