I guess it would look something like this. I know that drawing is a total failure from a cosmological perspective. And folklore can tell you the Sun is almost always a grownup– if anyone is a child in this setup, it would be the Moon. But if the Sun can also be a ball of dung being pushed by a celestial scarab, and the stars can be a herd of cows, then we know that symbols can be pushed into the personal if we feel like pushing them. And you know how much I like drawing the Man in the Moon. Why shouldn’t he have his own crazy suburban sketchbook family?
(Drawn with the scritchy scratchy pen, of course, complete with hand-built black.)