Later That Night...

Having collected Mamma from the airport, we're on the highway, almost home. It's a clear, dark, starry night. The Boy is up way past his bed-time, riding in the back seat, gazing through the window up into space. There's another plane on approach to the airport, its landing lights blazing a horizontal line in the sky. The Boy spots it first.

Boy: It looks like a hot dog.

Mamma: The plane looks like a hot dog?

Boy: Yeah. With a glow-in-the-dark bun!