In Bobby's kitchen, the boys are at the table, arranging planets- green apple as the Earth, red potato for Mars, an orange for the Sun, & so on. They busy their fingers across the tabletop, plotting with popcorn where constellations like Orion and Cassiopeia shine.
Sam's enthralled- says everything's endless. He's only six, but he can tell.
"It's cosmic," Dean comments.
From over by the fireplace I tell them, "Time for bed."
"It's not done yet!" Sammy protests.
"Go to bed!"
He lashes out, as popcorn litters the floor.
He stomps upstairs, and Dean sweeps up the planets and stars.