Fragments of Magic

Berlin 2026, the first day of the year. Outside it was bitterly cold, while we, in our pajamas, took part in the wedding of Barbie and Ken.

There was a wonderful reception and a parade of Barbies riding unicorns and winged horses, followed by little dogs, from the biggest to the smallest. Even Ballerina Barbie was on horseback, wearing her tulle tutu.

Then a magical, mythological creature entered the scene. It was an Aquasidato. At first it seemed to have my son’s face. But on closer inspection, no, it was a real, authentic, extremely rare Aquasidato. There are very few of them in the world. In fact, only one is left. It can transform into anything, eat anything, has the power of everything and the “skin of everything”. It can even speak and is capable of every kind of magic.

While the hungry Aquasidato was biting a little wall made of Lego bricks… oops, a tiny tooth came out. We must alert the fairy immediately! Tonight she will pass through the closed windowpanes, beating dragonfly wings and leaving behind her a silvery trail of tiny stars, and with her little hands she will push, using all her strength, a bag of gummy candies under the pillow.

Then Eli started laughing. Eli is my daughter’s daughter. Yes, I’m already a grandmother. In fact, becoming a mother and a grandmother felt like one and the same thing to me. Tossed into the air and caught again by chubby little hands, Eli opened and closed her eyes and laughed, laughed, even though she doesn’t have batteries. For a moment it seemed to me that she was a real child. “Look, it seems like she’s really laughing, she looks like a real little girl!”. “Mamma, what are you saying? Of course she’s real, can’t you see that she’s alive?”. Silly me, how could I ever think that Eli wasn’t alive?

Then the IKEA toy tunnel turned into a CT scanner, inside which the Aquasidato had to be placed for a veterinary exam. Emergency surgery is needed. Eli, go to your little bed, your mom, the doctor, has to run to operate. The Aquasidato thrashes about in the tunnel and tumbles off the mattress; in an instant it leaps out and now it’s the doctor who’s in the tunnel. She comes out transformed into a baby.

I must admit that at this point I feel a bit disoriented. Everything changes and transforms so quickly. I find myself exhausted, as if I had worked for two days straight without a break. Playing is hard work! Seeing plastic objects where they see unicorns, seeing wallpaper where they see fairies. I wish I were still able to enter the magical world to which they have access. Instead, only fragments reach me, and when I try to grasp them they dissolve, like the Caterpillar’s smoke rings.

They will grow up, and little by little Eli will stop laughing, the Barbies will no longer be able to ride unicorns, and the last remaining Aquasidato will disappear from the world forever. Then our home will become an apartment like any other, certainly more orderly than it is now, and I will finally be able to rest a little.

What a pity!