Dean walked on water once.
He was three and Mary had only looked away for a moment.
It was a Monday and it had rained earlier in the day; which was godsend after the heatwave they'd been getting the passed week. Mary thought that a walk through the park would be a good a idea. So just after nap time she got Dean ready and they headed off.
It was like every other walk a parent goes through with a three year old. Calling when they were walking ahead to far, chasing after them when they didn't listen, sighing in fond exasperation with how wet they were getting in the puddles. You know, normal things.
This is about the time her friend calls for her- at the precise moment Dean starts chasing after what appeared to be a butterfly.
With the little tykes attention fully on the fluttery thing he runs straight over a decent size puddle. No one looked on in awe. There was no shock. Mary turned her attention back to her son, and everything was still as normal as normal could be.
She was content.