We're Whalers On The Moon ...

So we slammed a probe into the moon today to check for water, and I have to admit, watching the reporters at the press conference all basically shouting “Where’s the kaboom? There was supposed to be an Earth-shattering kaboom!” is pretty amusing. Darn science and its taking time.

DAD: I was kinda hoping it’d just land in a pond or something. SPLOOSH!

AMELIA: Aww, man, that’d be great! A big old cannonball wave … Little moon frogs hopping away in panic …

DAD: NASA just saying, “We'll be DAMNED!” And there’d be ducks!

AMELIA: Indignant moon ducks!

DAD: Ducks with homing devices!

AMELIA: In the form of little antennae!

DAD: Old David Whatsisname* puffing on up to the pond … “The fledglings *wheeze* take their first *gasp* flight …”

AMELIA: He’d totally have a little knitted sock-hat on under his space helmet.

Then we descended into a debate about whether ducks from Earth migrate to the moon, and a discussion of how everyone knows that the surface of Venus is covered in carnivorous plants capable of snapping up a cow, as evidenced by many of the probably educational films he recalls from his youth.

Sometimes Dad and I make perfect sense to each other.


*Attenborough.