Adventures in Toddling

I was putting Julia to sleep last night and began singing her Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, as I often do. After the first two lines, I had to stop to consider that I was wondering aloud to my child what a star was when I know the answer perfectly well. This resulted in an impromptu science lesson delivered in a lulling whisper (I’m sure my 1¾-years-old daughter would think I was a know-it-all if she could understand what I was saying).

‘But Ben,’ you might say, ‘it’s a quaint, early-19th century poem which portrays the wonder of a young child still discovering the world around them.’ Nonsense! They knew what stars were in 1806, why not take advantage of the child’s wonder to teach them something useful? In spite of any arguments which might favor poetic license or other silly concepts, I now present to you my scientifically-accurate-but-still-perfectly-good version of this classic nursery rhyme:

Twinkle, Twinkle, Massive Plasma Ball

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
I need not wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
A ball of plasma in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
I need not wonder what you are.

Just like the blazing sun of day,
But smaller ’cause you’re far away.
When our Sun has set at night,
The sky turns dark, we see your light.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
I do not wonder what you are.

You seem to twinkle, I cannot see,
That you shine so steadily.
Effecting this glimmer it would appear,
Small disturbances in the atmosphere.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
No need to wonder what you are.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Now I know just what you are.