I know why President Trump did not need to prepare for his meeting with North Korea’s Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un at the Historic Summit Meeting in Singapore. It was because they were already friends.
I invited President Trump and Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un to our house for an outdoor sleepover, popcorn and stargazing a week before the summit. Odds were they would not show up. But as I was mowing in my Brooklyn Dodgers hat, a limo pulled in our driveway. It was President Trump.
I asked him to wait in our Toyota Prius until I finished mowing. I gave him the keys and told him about the CDs on the floor of the passenger side. When I shut the mower off I could hear him singing along with The Beatles “Can’t Buy Me Love” as Kim Jong-un’s helicopter landed in our street. I introduced them and thanked them for coming. I told them I was surprised they came with their busy schedules.
It was near our kids bedtime. Since I did not want these imposing figures to scare our kids right before bed, I decided not to introduce them. But as Trump and I were talking about the forecast for rain and how that would impact sleeping outside, Kim Jong-un walked over to our daughter’s window.
Her curtains were open and she stared at him. Trump and I smiled at each other when he started singing and performing itsy-bitsy spider on her window screen. Our daughter smiled, then unwittingly pointed to the rocket on her space pajamas and Kim Jong-un gave her a thumbs up. Trump did too.
It was getting dark. I went inside and got three sleeping bags and laid them in the yard.
My anxiety about the upcoming summit prompted my invitation. (I thought Trump and Kim Jong-un might get in a fight at the summit, which could jeopardize the whole world.) I thought all these men needed was a bonding experience. What better way to bond than to wonder at the stars together, eat popcorn, sleep side by side in pajamas and wake up next to each other with disheveled hair and crusties in their eyes.
We laid on the lawn on our backs. I laid in the middle. The stars appeared as the sky darkened. I just settled in when Trump reminded me of my promise of free popcorn.
I went to our kitchen. I thought they might be arm wrestling when I got back with the popcorn, but Kim Jong-un had taken my spot in the middle to get a better view of Orion’s Belt, which Trump was pointing out. They were laying on their backs, with their hands folded across their stomachs, their feet moving side to side.
Kim Jong-un said he heard that Alnitak, the star at the left side of Orion’s belt, is estimated to be about 33 times larger than the sun. He said Alnitak, which appears to be about 2 inches from Alnilam (the middle star of the three in Orion’s Belt) is actually about 563 light years from it. He said, “That’s 3.3097E+15 miles!” Trump said wow.
The summit is going to go great, I thought, Trump won’t even need to prepare.
Since all of us agreed to stay off our phones all night, Trump asked if I had any books on constellations. I did. I went inside and got it and a flashlight, meanwhile they put on their pajamas. (I didn’t bring up brushing teeth because I thought it would be a waste of this precious time.)
We sat criss-cross applesauce looking at the book. Trump held the flashlight. In the book, we looked at what stars and planets would be visible in the sky this time of year, at this time of night. We had many laughs trying to pronounce their proper names.
Then we laid back down and stared in silence at the sheet of stars. Finally, Kim Jong-un spoke, “Here comes our moon rising in the east.” Five minutes of silence, then Trump said, “Here we are on Earth watching the moon rise. Can you imagine being on the moon watching the Earth rise?”
Kim Jong-un fell asleep with his arm on my chest, but I didn’t move because I didn’t want to wake him.
On Monday, when I went to work people asked me what I did over the weekend. I said, “We had our friends Don and Kim over Friday night.” No one suspected. You don’t either.