Quincy: Dad use your magic paint powers to make me red, yellow or blue like a pimpkin (Pikmin).
Me: is blue okay?
Quincy: yes please
Me (makes magical sounds and waves fingers): there you go.
Rex (grumbling): dad doesn’t have magical powers…
Me: Listen, you! (Long loud lecture on the power of imagination and not spoiling things for little people.
Bonus points for countering lame “but in Sunday School they said there was no magic” argument with citation of Pharaoh’s magicians from Exodus)
TBH I’m not sure if i was more mad at Rex for trying to dreamcrush Quincy or for denying the magical paint power that i was hitherto unaware that i possessed.