I’d read the articles. I’ve seen the interviews. I’ve known for some time about the tragedy that has befallen Pluto. Downsized from a planet to a dwarf planet.
Which saddens me.
After all, how am I going to teach my kids “My Very Excellent Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas”? What I didn’t realise was the ramifications I’d discover in my own home.
Last week, Joseph asked if we could do a Mother/Son day. And, because he’s an odd duck, he asked if we could build a model of the solar system.
I, of course, agreed. What else could I do? The child wanted to work on an educational craft project instead of watching a movie or playing a video game.
So we got a kit.
Two hours later, I realise we’d run into a snag.
The kit did not include a little ball to represent Pluto.
But since we’d started from the outside in, we’d already painted Pluto. Thankfully, the craft store had more Styrofoam balls. We were able to add Mercury to the mix and have a completed solar system.
Looking at it with pride – especially Jupiter’s red dot and swirly surface – Joseph tilted his head.
“You know, Mama. Pluto’s not a real planet.”
I gritted my teeth and smiled. “It is in my book,” I replied stubbornly.