About a week ago, I noticed that the bedtime routine between Mommy and Mozart had lengthened. I found myself wondering if she started reading Harry Potter to him. I had no real reason to suspect this, aside from her unwavering love for all things Harry Potter. I mean, I knew it would happen sometime, but I thought it would be when he was closer to seven. I listened to snippets of story telling from in the room, but nothing seemed to suggest anything out of the norm.
My suspicions have been confirmed over the last week, however, when Mozart began wanting to "fly 'round the house." When he, out of the blue, yells, "Gryffindor!" at the top of his lungs and when the following conversation occurs:
Mozart: I just wanna play magic. I need a magic wand.
Mommy: You have to be 11 to have a magic wand.
Mozart: I am 11.
Mommy: Not yet. You need to turn 3, and then 4, and then 5, and then 6, and then 7, and then, well all the way up to 11.
Mozart: No. I wanna play magic. Turn me into 11.
Mommy (attempting with all her might to lock the window): Oh, Farqwod.
Mozarti: Oh, God.
Both moms laugh hysterically for several minutes.
Mozart: You did it Mommy? You gonna turn my hat in a toad?
And so it goes...
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