But it’s Magic
“It’s magic,” he says.
“No, it’s not! I saw you push the switch,” was my reply. “What makes you think that you can fool me like that?”
“I’m not fooling you. It really is magic.”
We were at a standoff. This happens all of the time. I’m the adult, and he is the child. I don’t know how to convince him that when he pushes the switch and the lights turn on, they are connected to the switch and electricity, which completes the circuit that turns them on and off.
“Then I’ll try it a different way,” he shouts. “I’ll use my magic word.” He closes his eyes and calls out, “SIRI, dim the lights.”
And the lights begin to dim. “See, I told you, it’s magic.”
“No, again. Our Apple Homepod responds to the S-word and activates the wireless signal to dim the lights. It’s not magic!”
It would appear that nothing I can say will convince this child that there is no magic and that everything is connected somehow to technological advancements in science.
“Okay,” I say, “Make something happen that is not in this room, like make a phone ring in the kitchen.”
I watch as he closes his eyes tight and mumbles something I can’t quite understand. The next thing I hear is the phone ringing in the kitchen.
“What?… Wait a minute.” I go to the kitchen and pick up the phone. It is the wrong number. I go back to the living room and confront him again.
“That was just a coincidence,” I say.
“No, it’s not,” he replies.
I’m getting tired of this game. “I quit,” I grumble, rather frustrated, “If you think it’s magic, then so it is. But you’re never going to get me to believe it. I’m a scientist. I’m going back to my workroom to read a book.”
I looked at him. He had a mysterious smile on his face. He closed his eyes and again mumbled something that I couldn’t quite understand, and the next thing that happened, I found myself sitting in a chair in my workroom with a book in my hand.”
The title of the book was The Art of Magic.
“What the…?”
