Duh

While watching the epic battle of the stuffed animals last night (I was on the couch where the designated 'sick bay' was located for those injured in combat) Peetie's little Snowman was rolled into a ball and then "fart-rocketed into space, all the way past Pluto, AND he can breathe in space!" "Breathe in space?", I asked. Peetie shot me a look that simultaneously showed his irritation at the question and his disappointment that I didn't already know the answer. I went on, "Won't he melt?" To make sure I understood, Peetie hunched his shoulders, wrapped his arms around himself, shivered and slowly said, "it's very cold in space, Mom." He turned back to the space journey and then back to the battle, leaving plenty of time for me to comtemplate the vast gap in my outer space knowledge.