Who’s the Psychic?

When I was a child, my mother often told me that I was psychic. Apparently I used to just randomly come up to her and start talking about whatever she happened to be thinking at the moment, and I did it often enough that she felt coincidence could not explain it. Even now, she swears that I used to read her mind.

I never really understood how my so-called “psychic power” must have made her feel until yesterday, when something similar happened to me. I was thinking about how I was going to make some popcorn as soon as Marshall returned home from school. Suddenly Livia barged into the room and announced, “I want some popcorn!”

We hadn’t had popcorn in weeks, and it’s not her favorite snack by any means. What a strange coincidence that she should mention it at exactly the moment that I was thinking about it. It was really, really weird.

The thing is, though my mother claims that I have (or had) psychic powers, I don’t believe in them. I don’t believe that I’ve ever been psychic. I don’t believe that Livia’s psychic.

I believe in coincidence. I’ve seen plenty of weird examples of coincidence. I know coincidences happen.

But if this kind of weird and unsettling thing were to happen again and again and again, then I might have to wonder who’s the psychic!

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