A bit of a religious epiphany over ham sandwiches:
Sitting at lunch yesterday, Toby says, "remember that guy we saw at mr. zoltan's house and how he did that magic trick where he picked up his beer bottle without holding on to it? How did he do that?"
"Must be magic," I replied, knowing full well he inverted the label and stuck it to the palm of his hand.
"Yeah, magic. Maybe he's God or something, you know, all magical."
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