Awww...

The Artist felt all better yesterday so we decided to take him to see the stars with us last night. At bedtime we drove out to 200th Street, Middle of Nowhere Kansas, and parked in the gravel next to some kind of an electrical something or other. It was dark and people-less and had a place to park and turn off the headlights.
I played a nice, happy tune in the soundtrack of my head because if I played something ominous this post could very easily be "nice family stops on a dark country road and is never seen again."
It's all about what music is playing, right?
So we opened our hatchback on the warm winter night (three cheers for global warming) and just looked. Looked at how many there are. Looked at how the sky curls around us until it tucks the starry covers into the horizon, like it's keeping us safe.
And I picked up the Dancer and we looked for a star to wish on. I wanted a little one that doesn't get much wishing action. I figured a star like that would try extra hard for me.
So I stared at my tiny star and I'll admit, I thought of my book and the publishers looking at it and of a vacation somewhere tropical and I was tempted. Until the Dancer pressed her soft cheek into mine and brought me back home.
I squeezed her close in all of her pink pajamaed wonderfulness and whispered, "I wish for you."
"I wish for you," she said back.
And the Artist and the Cowgirl were throwing rocks across the road and laughing in the glow of our dome light on that abandoned road and I smiled to realize that my best wishes already came true.
The rest are just tiny details.

I know- I'll say it for you.
Awww...