Dreamer found an apple at school today and for some reason thought it was very special.  As we were leaving, he told another mom that he found an apple and she said something along the lines that he was so lucky … maybe it was a Magic Apple.

She has no idea what she started.  In the car, Dreamer would say “Magic Apple please when I open my book bag let my homework be done.”  He rushed to open his bag and was actually disappointed that his math homework laid there …. still undone.  I told him even Magic Apples had their limitations but he could try something else, for example, change the radio station.

Turns out there are some nifty buttons behind the steering wheel of my car.  They control the volume, radio station, and the type of media being played.  I began pressing buttons and the display began blinking and the station changing.  The boys couldn’t see my fingers moving from their vantage points.

“MAMI,” Dreamer yelled.  “Did you see that? It’s the apple changing stuff on the radio for real. LOOK!” He would calm down and say “Magic Apple, please make the music really loud.”   

Amazingly, the Magic Apple would oblige.

“LOUDER,” they would scream, “EVEN LOUDER.”   

It was a moment of real magic for me.  I would look through the rear view mirror at both my boys whose face portrayed awe and disbelief.  Not even the Disney parade could bring about such amazement in my kids. Could they really have found a magic apple?

But then Fearless, the younger brother wanted some of the action.  We got home and Fearless ran to the fridge to get his own Magic Apple.  His theory was that if he touched Dreamer’s apple the magic would rub off on his.  Dreamer’s theory was that Fearless’ apple would take the whole magic charge of his apple and he would be left with some old regular apple.  The power was already being drained since Dreamer insisted Magic Apple open the door to the apartment but it failed to do so and Mami had to use her keys.

To make a long story short, apples touched and a monumental argument ensued. I could see Fearless really wanted some magic and Dreamer was really distraught.  Meanwhile, we had about ten minutes to get to soccer practice.

By now everyone was crying.  In my panic, I figured I’d manipulate Dreamer a bit.  

“SHHHH Dreamer, I have to tell you something.  There is no Magic Apple, but don’t tell Fearless … let him think there is, he’s still little.” 

“But Mami,” he whimpered “Didn’t you see the radio station move?” 

“I did that.” I said coldly. 

“What? How?” he asked and I explained to him about the buttons on the back of the wheel.  He had stopped crying and his shin guards were on so I thought I was clever and I had this under control. 

I was wrong. Dreamer was quiet and then said:  

“But your hands were on the top of the steering wheel the whole time,” and buaaaaaaaa, crying began even more dramatically.

Dreamer with his not-so-Magic Apple.  I hope I didn’t scar him for life!“What just happened?” I thought to myself.  I had broken a truly magical moment, disenchanted my child, gave him a clue that magic doesn’t always exist, perhaps implanted the questioning on Santa Claus this coming year for what?  I was still going to be late for soccer, and everyone was still crying.  

After much drama and coaxing things eventually worked themselves out.  We made it to my car, Dreamer checked the steering wheel and saw the buttons.  We made it to soccer, the boys wiped their tears so no one could tell that a crisis had transpired and they went to play while I went to the supermarket.  

The point is, Dreamer believed what he wanted to believe.  He did not want to hear, much less understand or agree that the apple wasn’t magic.  He did not want to believe I was the one pressing the buttons even after he saw the buttons.  What is magical, is denial.  You may not want to believe something, but that doesn’t mean its not true. I may be in denial that I am getting older, that I need to take better care of my skin if I don’t want the number of wrinkles to increase exponentially in record speed.  So I continue to care for it the same way I have done my whole life: minimally.  Sooner or later, I won’t be able to avoid the wrinkles anymore.
Denial is not useful or productive; but life deserves a speck of magic, a little hope, and a dose of wonder.  And somewhere inside me there is a bit of guilt for spoiling the experience for Dreamer just to get him to soccer on time.  Had I not panicked, perhaps I could have come to a different solution.  Hindsight is cruel.  Yet those moments when the kids thought the apple was moving the radio dial were indeed magical, and the ensuing disillusion will never wipe off that smile from my face.