Christopher seemed to learn to astrally project at around the same time he learned to walk. We had a shag carpet in our house when Chris was a toddler. I can't count the number of times when he would be sitting serenely beside me, and I would notice he was being a little too serene. Next thing I knew, while his body never moved, I would see tiny footprints in the carpet as his spirit merrily pranced off to play. A stern "Chris, get back here!" was all it took to retrieve him, and he would look innocently up at me with a little smile that said, "Who, me? I'm just sitting here."
The first astral trip Angelia took that we know of happened when she was three. Chris and his wife, Gina, and I tucked her in one night as usual. There was a balloon beside her bed, left over from an earlier party. Angelia seemed to be sound asleep when the three of us tiptoed out of her room and returned to the den. At first we only found it odd, some silly fluke of the drafts in the house, that the balloon followed us every step of the way. But the fluke theory fell apart when it then followed Chris into the kitchen, from the refrigerator to the cabinets to the sink, pausing with him at each place until he'd finished there and moved on. By now we were incredulous, so Chris began marching through the house, turning sharp corners, heading halfway up the stairs and down again, stepping into and abruptly out of rooms again, and that balloon never left his side. Finally a possible explanation occurred to me, and I turned to Chris and Gina and said, "Come with me." The four of us - Chris, Gina, me, and our new pet balloon - headed to Angelia's room. I sat down beside her on the bed and whispered, "Angelia, what are you doing?" There was a giggle in her voice when she replied, "Following Daddy."
The first astral trip Angelia took that we know of happened when she was three. Chris and his wife, Gina, and I tucked her in one night as usual. There was a balloon beside her bed, left over from an earlier party. Angelia seemed to be sound asleep when the three of us tiptoed out of her room and returned to the den. At first we only found it odd, some silly fluke of the drafts in the house, that the balloon followed us every step of the way. But the fluke theory fell apart when it then followed Chris into the kitchen, from the refrigerator to the cabinets to the sink, pausing with him at each place until he'd finished there and moved on. By now we were incredulous, so Chris began marching through the house, turning sharp corners, heading halfway up the stairs and down again, stepping into and abruptly out of rooms again, and that balloon never left his side. Finally a possible explanation occurred to me, and I turned to Chris and Gina and said, "Come with me." The four of us - Chris, Gina, me, and our new pet balloon - headed to Angelia's room. I sat down beside her on the bed and whispered, "Angelia, what are you doing?" There was a giggle in her voice when she replied, "Following Daddy."
