RocketGirl and BulldozerBaby

Once upon a time on a farm far, far away from the delights of civilization lived an amazing little girl and brave baby boy.

RocketGirl spends her days in a pink gel mask and cape racing from one super task to the next.  From washing Pretty Ponies to rescuing stray bugs RocketGirl is always in search of someone to help.  Her favorite missions include experiments in the kitchen and playing with water.  She also loves preparation for future missions including reading, writing, astral-navigation and thermodynamics ;)

BulldozerBaby maintains that he is much easier to entertain.  His super-powers include a bottomless pit for a stomach and an imperviousness to sleep … especially in the middle of the night.  BulldozerBaby’s favorite activities include chasing RocketGirl from one task to the next, making a B-line for his objective regardless of the obstacle or hinderance, powering through and over blocks and other toys with equanimity.

One day while RocketGirl was playing in the “pond” with “Frog” she received an urgent call from Mission Control that she needed to prepare for a most exciting adventure.  RocketGirl got outfitted in her best astronaut jumpsuit, donned her self-illuminating shoes and NASA cap.  Armed with Mr. Sleepy and her sippy she was ready to go.  The ship’s pilot assisted in loading her into the family rocketship, strapping her and BulldozerBaby into their respective seats and counting down to launch.  10-9-8-7-6-5-4…3…2…1…BLAST OFF!!!!

They zoomed around craters and asteroids, powering down mountainous curves and accelerating right off the side of a cliff!  Vroooommm!

RocketGirl keeps up a steady commentary of the phenomenon that they pass lest they miss documenting a single item for posterity.  When they arrive at the spaceport, the pilot unloads the ship, hurriedly rushing them along with deep concern of overshooting their time table for re-entry later in the day.  (The launch window for return to nap time is very small – as we all know.)

Strange alien creatures are trudging through the massive sliding doors as if there is a vast gravitational pull for them to this huge place.  The incandescent glow emenating from the doorway is entrancing.  The aliens’ vapid expressions and autonomic drudgery indicate that there is some sort of hypnotic forcefield at play.

RocketGirl begins to read the letters over the doorway, “W.  A.  L….”

“WalPort, the Intergalactic Spaceport!” the pilot exclaims.  ”RocketGirl, here is the list of important items we need to restock the space station.  Can you assist?”  Static hisses over the line.  RocketGirl has gotten distracted by a larger than life replica of a talking man made out of chocolate.  ”Break.  Do you copy, RocketGirl?”

RocketGIrl laughs with delight and assumes her position in the all-terrain space rover.  ”Copy, Mission Control!  Inventory list in hand.”  BulldozerBaby also blurbles with delight and begins licking the navigation interface.

Suddenly, the pilot senses a presence to her left.  Mission Control rapidly and silently flashes internal communications, “Warning.  Incoming.”  There is an alien to her left, approaching fast, with blue hair that seems to defy gravity and matching eye shadow.  The alien appears very old and infirm, but Commander FarmMom has encountered these creatures before and does not underestimate their speed and agility – especially where BulldozerBaby is involved.

“Aww, they’re so cute.”  The alien initiates first contact.

Mission Control flashes another silent warning, “Deploy defense measures.”  The Commander braces for impact and deflects the first attempt of physical contact with a deft replacement of the diaper bag to BulldozerBaby’s left side.

“He is so chubby.”

BulldozerBaby squinches his face up and begins to blow raspberries at the alien.  His vast intelligence is often underestimated by strangers and he knows this is really an insult to his uncanny ability to store milk-fat for further brain development and growth.

“Adorable.  Makes you just want to pinch his cheeks!” the alien proclaims, now drooling and weaving side to side, matching the velocity of the rover, trying to circumnavigate the various articles blocking attempts to probe BulldozerBaby.

RocketGirl is sullen and withdraws to a crouch in the far end of the rover; the attention that was once lavished on her during alien encounters now solely is focused on the interminable BulldozerBaby.  Life is so unfair.

Commander FarmMom needs to think fast!  ”Thank you.  Yes, they are wonderful.  Just cranky because they are sick.  Terribly contagious,” she mumbles and increases the speed of the rover – quickly veering into a section of closely spaced garments and frocks, hoping to out-maneuver the elderly space-creature.  The alien appears to get side-tracked by a collision with a space-port worker.

The Commander sighs her relief and Mission Control flashes a congratulatory message, “Alien encounter neutralized.  Contamination averted.”  Commander FarmMom supresses an urge to sanitize the areas of the rover the alien has touched.  She breathes deeply and counts to 10 reminding herself that decontamination procedures are unnecessary until they depart the spaceport.  She sighs again as she witnesses RocketGirl tasting the bottom of her shoes.  Sanitation procedures are a continued exercise in futility with this crew.

The mission proceeds without further incident…

RocketGirl.  My daughter loves all things SPACE.  I don’t know if it is my influence or truly her own interest, but she could identify pictures of all the planets (including poor Pluto) before she was three.  Her first costume was, at her insistence, an astronaut jumpsuit and for her brother’s birth we gave her a toy space shuttle to help with the jealousy factor.  Her favorite episodes of Curious George, WordWorld and Dora all include rocketships.  For the last week she has been asking me to trade in the car for a rocketship.  I am running out of ways to explain that people can’t just buy rocketships from a store.  But I love counting down to blast off, making rocketship sounds and pretending my car is indeed a rocketship.

BulldozerBaby.  My son is a little tank.  He is as determined as my daughter is curious.  He would much rather crawl through/over something than around it and no obstacle deters him.  He isn’t yet one year old, but he already has so much personality.  He adores his big sister and follows her everywhere.  And he does the “happy dance” whenever he gets junk food from daddy; his favorite are fries and Fritos… boys!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>