A long time ago, when my girl was just a toddler, we gave her a pair of fairy wings for her birthday. They cost a few guilders (it was so long ago we did not even have a common euro currency!). They were pink and silver and sparkly and they had two elastic loops to attach them to her shoulders.
John used hold her high up, horizontal, and fly her through the living room shouting “flying babies!” she loved the feeling of flying, and her giggle was infectious, as it always was when her Dad and her played together.
Then one day she said “when I’ve learned to fly properly I’m going to fly to Tante Wil’s house”!
Her grammar was probably not so correct, but the meaning was clear. I guess for her it was a logical step, she had learned to crawl, then walk, she swam with floats on, there would be no problem mastering flying too.
I found it incredibly difficult to tell her that she would never fly to Tante Wil’s house, that these HEMA wings would not support her, that her brain would never be able to send messages to them to make them work like a butterflywing or a birdwing.
But we have helped her through her childhood in so many other ways, riding her bike, riding her pony, passing her scooter test, taking driving lessons. Then there were the times we supported her through school, helped her with reading, and homework, and projects.
We waved her goodbye on school trips; then on camping holidays with friends. Seeing her leave to visit her boyfriend and taking a train half way across holland to do it. She is grown now, and flies in so many other ways.