"Hey, I *don't* have a magic nose!"

My daughter Ellie is eight years old now. Because she has my awful eyesight, she's been seeing a children's eye specialist since she was three. Her eye doctor has a great routine for turning on the TV monitor that's on the other side of the room. She asks my kid, "Hey, do you have a magic nose?" Then she presses my daughter's nose and turns on the TV with a foot pedal at the same time. My daughter has been in awe of this trick for years. I think she's really disappointed that her magic nose doesn't work on our TV at home.

Well, Ellie just had her annual eye appointment. At the end of her visit, her doctor and I chatted for a few minutes while my daughter sat in the big exam chair. As the adults' conversation dragged on for a bit, she got bored, turned sideways in the chair, and found the control pedals that move the chair up and down. She maneuvered the chair all the way down, then found one more pedal. She stepped on it and . . . the TV monitor switched on. A sudden look of enlightenment flashed across her face, followed by indignation. "Hey!" she said. "I *don't* have a magic nose!"