I turn my eyes to the moon and count to fifty. I lose track of the count and admire the craters. It must have looked impressive from here when the meteors hit there. I wonder if moon chunks flew through the atmosphere making a light show and embedding themselves in our dirt.
“Janie, you’re a jerk!” Emma the Bully shouts, bringing my attention back to the fall night here on earth.
“Huh, he was right. Dad told me counting to fifty would keep me from getting mad.”
“Gotta go. Have to tell dad.”