The door swung open.
My children poured into the den.
“We made friends with aliens from space,” said Lucy. “Can we invite them to dinner?”
“How’d you know they’re from space?”
“Because their ship landed in our back yard.” Max rolled his eyes.
“And because they said so,” Lucy added.
I scanned their faces for signs that this was a joke. No giggles. No furtive looks between them. They had to be kidding me.
“Real space aliens could be dangerous.”
“Not any more. We made friends with them.” Lucy smiled big.
“Do you think it’s a good idea to have aliens in our house?”
“It’d be cool, Dad.” Max nodded. “They have disintegrator guns.”
“I like them,” Rick and Nick said simultaneously.
“We’re supposed to be nice to people we meet.” Lucy reminded me. “If we’re nice to them - they’ll be nice to us.”
I had taught them the Golden Rule. Besides, there weren’t really aliens in our back yard.
“Sure,” I told them. “Let’s do our part to further interplanetary relations.”
“Hooray,” they shouted.
“Randy,” my wife called. She sounded nervous. “Look outside.”
I reached for my children. They charged out of the room.
The door swung shut.
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