Baba tipped their head thoughtfully. “Donald said it was some soo-doh-magee-cosmo… something. Baba thinks… but how can Baba think? Now mermaids are real, and outer space is real. Now Baba can only wonder what else is out there.
Like Mount Olympus or the Hundred Acre Wood… or France.
Oh, Lira, Peter, do you think France is real?”
“What’s France?” said Peter, cleaning out his ear.
“It’s got fairy godmothers, and dragons, and cursed princesses.”
“Ooh,” said Peter, intrigued.
“And the people there eat, and age, and die.”
Peter wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like France. Sounds fake.”
Unfazed, Baba continued.
“And they’ve got these things called ‘weather’, and ‘seasons’, and they change all the time!”
Peter huffed conceitedly. “I know what weather is.”
“Oh, I don’t,” said Baba, excited, “Will you tell me?”
Peter stopped. He sat cross-legged, grasped his chin, and thought.
“Weather happens…” he began. He paused.
“Yes?” said Baba.
“Shut up, I’m thinking.” said Peter. Baba waited politely.
“Weather happens, because there’s a big elephant in the sky. The wind blows when he sings, rain falls when he sprays water from his trunk, and the sun goes away when he sits on it.”
Baba sat back in awe, button eyes gleaming. “Wow.”
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