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Fairy dust

“Here mommy, let me put some of this on you,” my boy says to me.

He rubs glitter into my collarbone like a salve.

“Now make a wish,” he instructs me. “It will take 24 hours for it to start doing its work, right after my wishes start working. So… what is your wish?”

“I want my family to be happy and healthy,” I tell him.

He wished for wormholes to form though the earth.

He’d really like it if it didn’t take a whole three hours to get to his cousins’ farm. Lately, he’s been angling to see Disney World too.

If you happen to be secretly working on a space-time continuum-ripping transportation system, Large Hadron Collider, please make Columbus a decent hub, would you?

He keeps checking his tin full of fairy dust as though it is a science experiment. It has magical components like teeny tiny sea shells and sprigs of brightly colored fabric fibers.

I’m not allowed to hide it, he told me, although I’m not sure why I would.

He also wished for all good dreams to come true.

“Not the tornado ones.”

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