Magic

“How does the door to the Giant open by itself daddy?” Maxfield asked.

“Magic, Max, magic.” I replied.

That was two years ago.

Now anytime we enter a store that has automatic doors Max will pause, thrust his arms forward as if he is casting a spell or shooting invisible beams of energy at the door. His arms break the plane of the motion sensor and the doors open. He knows the doors are not really magic but he loves pretending that he is controlling them with his mind. Sometimes I let him stand there for a few minutes and let him “open” the door for other people. An old couple will approach and Max will jump in front of them, point his arms at the door, the door opens and Max will step aside and let the couple pass.

Wyatt on the other hand thinks all automatic mechanical things are magic. A couple of weeks ago we went out to eat at a restaurant that was built two, maybe three, years ago. While we were waiting for our food Wyatt decided he needed to use the bathroom. It was one of the nicest restaurant bathrooms I have ever been in. Wyatt felt the same. The toilet was automatic and flushed when he got up. The sinks were motion sensor activated and “magically” turned on when he placed his hands under the faucet. The soap and paper towel dispensers were the same.

We returned to the table and Wyatt was so excited that while trying to tell Max he also announced to the whole restaurant that the bathroom was magic. Of course, all of the sudden Max has to go use the restroom and Wyatt needed to come along to show him how everything worked. We spent a good portion of our time in the restroom playing with the equipment (hey now).

Last week I took the boys to the community theater to help with a set-strike. Wyatt needed to use the restroom. Wyatt now expects all public restrooms to be magic. This theater was built in the 1920’s. The bathroom was probably last upgraded in the late 50’s. The only magic in these unisex bathrooms is the fact that they could be haunted. The lock is an old eye-hook and the lights are in a constant flicker. Wyatt hopped off the toilet hoping it would flush on its own. He was disappointed. He waved his hand under the soap dispenser but nothing happened. He had to manually turn on the faucet. He was saddened that he had to grab the C-fold paper towels from the dull silver box fastened to the wall.

He looked around the room and then asked me “Dad, can I have a coin?”

“Why do you need a coin?”

Wyatt pointed to the 25 cent symbol on the tampon dispenser on the wall and said “That one needs money for the magic.”