"I want dino claws!" he declared, so loud it rattled the silverware drawer. "I wanna be a dinosaur like Fifi!"
Fifi, to her credit, tried to tuck her claws behind her back, but the motion just made them glint brighter. She ducked her head. "It's nothing, Ollie. Just, uh, a science project."
Oliver did not buy it. He planted his feet defiantly and tried even harder.
"Nuh-uh! I saw it! You had claws and everything! Why won't mine work?"
His face crumpled into a total meltdown. Tears overflowed, pure heartbreak, and he stomped his foot so hard it hurt just to watch.
"Not fair. I wanna be a dino. I wanna be a dinoright now!"
God help me, I had no idea what to do.
Fifi's claws started to fade as the panic choked out the shift, but the damage was done.
Oliver took off, full tilt, snot and disappointment all over his face. I followed, trying to calm him down.
Oliver crashed through the living room, straight to Beth, and yanked on her wrist hard enough to almost spill her tea.
"Fi can turn into a dino, and I can't!" he wailed. "She hadreal dino handsand they were sharp!"
Beth blinked, totally thrown, looking from Oliver to me to Fifi in confusion.
Gerty tucked a smile away. "Dino hands, huh? Did Fifi do a magic trick?"
Fifi blushed but didn't answer. The tears on Oliver's face tripled.
Mere hustled over, nervously whispering. "Mom, should I…?"
I shook my head.
Beth squinted at Fifi, then at me. "Were you doing press-on nails, or something? I'm lost."
Before I could manage a single word, Maeve appeared and knelt beside Oliver with a plate of cookies.
"Would you like to try my special Christmas cookies, darling?" Her cheerful smile had the voltage of a stun gun.
Oliver hesitated, mid-sniffle. He eyed the cookies, then the room, then the cookies again.
"Is it magic?" He wiped his nose on his sleeve, lower lip wobbling.
Maeve winked. "Every cookie I make has a little bit of magic. Want to see?"
He nodded, still watery, so she offered him the treat and gently booped his nose, right at the tip. The touch was so quick, so light, nobody would've noticed anything if they hadn't been looking.
But Mere and I were looking.
A faint shimmer, gold and silver, flashed across Oliver's temples. He stared at the cookie, astonished, then bit in like nothing else mattered. The misery vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by pure delight.
"Best. Cookie. Ever!" he shouted, and bolted for the fort under the table, the upset absolutely destroyed by sugar and whatever spell Maeve had woven.
Beth shrugged, bemused. "Toddlers," she said. "Next year, he'll want to be a narwhal."
Gerty stuffed another brownie bite in her mouth, cracking up.
Mere tugged my sleeve, leaned in close so nobody else could hear.
"She did magic," Mere whispered. "She fixed it."
