Of Ships and Shoes and Singing Penguins

"3, 2, 1, blastoff!"

Captain Daniel punches the red button and our spaceship, made of a large purple blanket draped between the couch and two chair from the kitchen table, launches into the final frontier.

"Captain Daniel, there's a giant flying donut ahead! What do we do?"

The three-year-old space adventurer pauses for a second, carefully calculating his next mode of action. "Eat it!" he says, with a grin of sheer glee illuminating his face.

I hold 18 month Kaden on my lap who quickly proceeds to shoot the donut with his TV remote blaster, saving our spaceship from certain dismemberment by flying pastry.

Kaden ducks under the blanket behind the captain's chair to check on the singing penguins we've rescued from Planet Transformer along with a large stuffed puppy dog, a monster truck, and Bumblebee himself. Daniel pretends to cut down the Christmas tree feeding our group of refugees their quota in greens for the month.

And I am amazed at the faith Daniel places in large purple blankets and kitchen table chairs, and how confident he is that no matter what junk food we encounter in space, nothing will stop him from reaching Planet Transformer. And I want that faith for myself, a faith that meets each twist and turn in the story with eager enthusiasm, a faith that believes I've been equipped with everything I need to reach my destination. And maybe along my way, I can rescue a singing penguin or two.