The best of days are when the Kind Enchantress makes me tiny, a little miniature the size of a thumb. Being enormous is fun for a while, but then you quickly grow tired of having to be so careful. The last thing you want is to step on cute animals or the people you love.

When I am tiny, I can run around the house without a worry. I can ride Lily, the mouse, but she doesn’t let me grab her by the ears so I have to hold on tightly to her thick back hair. Lily also loves to be tickled on her belly. Climbing the living room orchids is fun, too. Sometimes I fall, but the pots are so wide that no matter how far up I go I always land on the soft, cushiony soil.

The Kind Enchantress only visits me on odd days when the moon is growing. Some days she brings exotic, strange candy for me, some days we talk about school and she tells me stories, some days she makes me big, some days she makes me tiny.

By far, my favourite thing to do when I am the small version of me is to have a chat with Ruby, the goldfish. Ruby is old and wise. She has lots of stories to tell of her younger days. Oh, she has seen so much! Contrary to what people think, she remembers everything. And when I say everything I mean, all of it. She can tell you what you were wearing any day of the past many many years she’s lived in the house, what you said and even what you meant. She is like a living memory library made of pumpkin colour scales.

You could say, for example: Ruby, can you remember that Christmas Day two whole years ago when Daddy got so mad, and his face turned redder than Santa’s hat? And he threw the stuffing bowl against the wall? Can you remember what I was wearing that day? I really don’t want to forget it, because that was the first visit of the Kind Enchantress, the first time she made me tiny, tiny, tiny, so tiny I almost disappeared. Just they way I wanted.