We are magicians now

When Pa was a child, he enjoyed watching magicians make doves disappear or pour an endless stream of tea from tiny pots. With his clumsy fingers, he never did master any David Blaine-type tricks: And he didn't have to. Becoming a parent, it turns out, confers upon one the ability to perform impossible illusions. Unfortunately, you don't necessarily get to choose when these moments of magic will come.

The other morning, for instance, Mum was wondering where her little handkerchief was - the one she uses to wipe Sonny's mouth after he performs his own bit of dribble magic (so much saliva overflows onto clothes, toys and assorted people, there must be a huge tank hidden somewhere on his person). Anyway, abracadabra and all that, our once-tidy house was suddenly overflowing with handkerchiefs. They poked out of every pocket and corner. All of them soiled, of course, although Mum couldn't for the life of her remember when she had used so many. We even seemed to have ended up with more handkerchiefs than we started out with. Applause!

Our real forte, however, is disappearing tricks. Two days ago, Sonny was beginning to fidget and fuss. Recently, the only sure way to soothe him has been to put his new best friend - Rainbow the multi-coloured fish - in his hands. Except - fanfare, please - it was Vanishing Time. Though both Mum and Pa had only just seen Rainbow lying peaceably atop the toy box, it took only a Shazam! for it to wink out of existence. Mum scoured Sonny's play area, rummaged through the toy box and then began methodically turning the flat upside down. No Rainbow (plenty fussing, alas). When Pa got home, Mum told a dramatic tale of a disappearing fish. Ah, but it was time for our magic again. Zap! Pa opens the toy box, and there's Rainbow nestled next to Wordster the cloth book. Looking innocent as a saint, too.

We're aware that these are relatively small-scale feats and are expecting our repertoire to expand as Sonny (who is, of course, the talisman that makes it all possible) gets older. We've already seen his more or less magical ability to flit across his mattress while asleep, even though he can't even crawl when awake (read 'Sleep-crawler alert' for details). Like the great Houdini, too, he's hard to truss up nowadays (as Pa used to, to keep him from sucking his thumb): Pa's knots are increasingly no match for Sonny's wriggling skills. But as a taste of the little fella's sorcerous potential, we're already seeing some cosmic time-bending performances. However many minutes we might allot beforehand to readying him for an excursion, it's never enough: When the deadline is reached for departure, there is always an emergency toilet visit, a spill or some critical item gone missing from his pack.

Now if he could only make some of our bills vanish...