Tonight, 6 million Americans will be watching the historic event on television. The Orion spacecraft, named Integrity, is estimated to return to Earth at 8:07 P.M. The little boy who lives inside me can hardly contain himself.

The crew of NASA’s Artemis II has traveled farther into deep space than any human beings before them. They are heroes. Each one of them. Christina Koch, Victor Glover, Reid Wiseman, and Jeremy Hansen.

Before splashdown, the crew has a lot to do just to survive. The little boy inside me would like to tell you about it:

Last night, while you were winding down for bed, the crew ignited thrusters for a total of 15 seconds to guide Integrity to the correct Earth-trajectory course.

Whereupon they finished a few odd jobs, worked on a few calculations, then made calls to loved ones. Then, each crewperson took turns using Integrity’s $30-million “hygiene bay.”

Unlike the old Apollo days, when astronauts used adhesive hygiene bags, Integrity came equipped with a state-of-the-art john. The craft features a vacuum hose, with funnel attachments designed to fit—ahem—the anatomical plumbing apparatus of each gender.

Also, Integrity has an actual toilet with an actual lid, which the male coworkers keep forgetting to close. This latrine canister is really just a giant vacuum. Using the toilet is a full-contact sport. In the words of one male astronaut, “Ride ’em cowboy.”

The reason I’m telling you about the bathrooms is not because I am a little boy. But because the spacecraft’s toilet broke during flight. This was a huge complication that threatened the mission.

The venting pipe outside the ship froze solid. For days on end, the crew succumbed to using what amounted to fancy Ziploc bags until they could fix the problem.

But anyway, that’s just one of the problems NASA astronauts had to contend with. Today, their efforts will be focused on re-entry. Re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere is no cakewalk. It is a violent and harrowing process.

First, the spacecraft will skip off Earth’s atmosphere, like a rock skipping on a pond.

Then, Integrity will enter Earth’s atmosphere traveling at roughly 25,000 mph. Mach 32. The crew will feel four or five Gs. The G-force will contort their faces and squash their organs. It will feel like a family of four is sitting on their chests.

Meanwhile, the air outside the craft will cause so much friction that air molecules will be torn apart. Temperatures on the craft will reach 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit. The whole craft will be surrounded by a wall of fire.

So none of their communication equipment will work. They will be staring at blank screens. With no communications coming through their headsets.

Once the ship slows to 325 mph, two drogue parachutes pop out. These slow the ship to 100 mph. Then come the main chutes. These are not small parachutes. These are massive orange-and-white chutes, each big enough to cover a football field, that will reduce capsule speed to 20 mph.

Then, splashdown.

The jolt from hitting the water at 20 mph will feel like smashing into a pad of concrete.

Whereupon enormous orange balloons will inflate to make sure the capsule stays upright until it is finally recovered by the USS John P. Murtha, which is waiting nearby.

Next, divers in Zodiac boats will secure the Orion craft to a winch system, then pull the entire vessel into a special room inside the ship called the “well deck,” which is a room that is flooded.

The astronauts will then emerge to roaring applause and cheers. Cheers not just from Navy personnel, but from 6 million Americans watching live. Many of those viewers will be children.

Some of these children will be so overcome with emotion and excitement they will write a whole column about it.