When humans fly (or) the great Hogwarts Hope

You know how a child's imagination is unsurpassed in it's sheer audacity of believability?
You know how you savor that imagination as long as it possibly can last? ... squeezing every drop of bright-eyed wonder out of it?
You would think since I have two girls who, even though they are 8 and 10, still enjoy a healthy dose of make-believe that I could realistically plan on my 2.75-year-old to be happily held within that realm for at least another 3 years or so. I don't think we're going to make it.

He does love to play. He loves to play ball. He loves to look at books. He loves to color. He LOVES riding his tricycle for long long long stretches of time. He still explores. He has finally discovered TV, specifically Noggin. However, recent events lead me to believe that serious pretend time isn't his forte'.

Event #1:
Little man wanted my mom to read books. He runs to his room and back again with a nice selection. They sit on the couch for storytime, but little man decides he wants to read instead of being read to. So mom hands him a book...he places the book on his lap...opens it up...(here is where you would think he would ramble on in his cute little talk pretending to actually read, but no)...looks at the pages...shuts the book... & proclaims:
I can't wead!!
Well, duh, but it would have been nice to hear some little gibberish nonetheless.

Event #2:
Sasha, our overgrown Golden Retriever puppy, likes to "talk" to us. She has always made some "interesting" noises when she is happy to see us or just be near us. Sometimes she sounds like a dinosaur. It is always funny and we always mock her. (it's okay, she's just a dog, it doesn't hurt her feelings) The other day, Sasha finds Steve in the study and of course begins a conversation. Little man follows and says: "What Sashee say Dada?"
Steve makes up some random comment about how Sasha wants to play, instead of just mimicking her noises like we always do. Little man looks at Steve like he is a complete doofus and says:
"Sashee can't TALK Dada."

Event #3:
Little man was spinning around and around with his arms spread out. Once he decided he had had enough dizziness, he starts running around the house with his arms still out (yike a ayuhpwane). After two laps around the kitchen/family room, he stops...leans back against the couch...folds his arms in front of him...& announces in a sadly resigned little voice: I can't fwy.

I adore his vocabulary, his little voice, his inflections, the way he strings words together to make the best sentences (likened unto Yoda). But I have to admit, the flying revelation made me sad. I mean, B is 10 and she is still convinced that if she could go fast enough she just might get off the ground, and that Hogwarts might just possibly exist.

I don't think she'll really be convinced until she turns 11 and doesn't receive an owl-post.