About this story
Ryan has turned a refrigerator box into the Apollo-Ryan, with a pasta strainer for a helmet. The ship is ready, but it needs a co-pilot, and Dad is asleep on the sofa, worn out from work.
Ages: 4–8 · Reading time: about 2 minutes
Moral: The best adventures are the ones you share with someone you love.
The smell of white glue was still fresh on Ryan’s hands. He held his paintbrush firmly, painting a crooked red button on the side of a large refrigerator box.
“Done. The Apollo-Ryan is ready for takeoff,” he whispered, adjusting a pasta strainer on his head like a space helmet.
The living room was dark, lit only by the blueish glow of the turned-off TV. Ryan climbed into the box. Inside, it was cramped but safe. He closed his eyes and imagined the engines roaring to life. Vruuuuuum! But something was missing. A co-pilot.
Houston, We Have a Problem
Ryan looked through his “window”—a square hole he had cut with scissors. His dad was on the sofa, fast asleep and exhausted from a long day at work, his tie loosened around his neck. Ryan stepped out of his ship. He tiptoed across the floor, making the wood creak softly. Creak. He gently touched his father’s shoulder.
“Dad… Houston has a problem.”
His dad opened one eye, then the other. He saw his little boy with a strainer on his head. Fatigue weighed heavy on him, but he smiled. “Roger that, Commander Ryan. What’s the situation?”
“I need help navigating the Asteroid Belt!” Ryan pointed to the coffee table. His dad stood up, stretching his back. He didn’t say he was tired. Instead, he grabbed a cushion to use as a shield. Together, father and son navigated the room, dodged imaginary meteors, and finally landed on the Moon—the fluffy living room rug.
Ryan learned that the best space voyage isn’t the one that goes the furthest, but the one you take hand-in-hand with someone you love.
