He thinks I can change a red light into a green one, and that I make muffins appear out of thin air. When something is locked, he's certain that I have the key.
He thinks I can lift him and all his toys simultaneously. He thinks I can carry all the sticks in the forrest, and that my pockets have infinite storage space for rocks. He thinks I can make flat ground into a hill to run down.
He thinks I have the power to send Elmo back to 1974, and "open" solid, all-one-piece objects. He thinks that my blowing on slides at the park will make them cooler.
But he can make me sing and dance the hokey-pokey just by asking for music. He can melt my heart with a kiss on the cheek. He can fill my head with question marks. Sometimes just thinking about him makes me cry. And he can make me smile on the worst day ever.
He's the magic one.