Ezra has lately been fascinated with outer space, as are so many boys his age. Though I have little interest in outer space myself (I'm a girl and there are no relationships in outer space), his passion is mostly very exciting for me--I love to see him so enthusiastic and inquisitive. But it's also anxiety-provoking. Every time he opens his mouth, I'm afraid it's going to be one more question I don't know the answer to, or don't know how to answer in a way that he can understand.
For example:
"Why is outer space so cold if it's close to the sun?"
and:
"If the planets have gravity, why don't they all come together?"
And as long as we're discussing gravity:
"If the water on the South Pole doesn't fall away because of gravity, why doesn't fuzz floating on the top of the water sink down because of gravity?"
Today, I had to contend with this doozy:
“Where in outer space is heaven?”
To which I replied, "Heaven isn’t really anywhere. It’s just a place people imagine." (I know, too literal, too realistic, so not fun. But that's me, in a nutshell.)
“Does someone drive people to heaven in a special car?”
"No."
"Well then how do they get there?"
"Some people believe that people go to heaven after they die. But not the body part of them; that gets buried in the ground. What’s inside goes to heaven."
"You mean their insides go to heaven but their skin stays in the ground?"
I give up.
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