Since I work from home, my daughter often mimics everything I do.
I have my office desk set up at home, and right next to it is her little writing desk. While I’m busy typing on my laptop, she quietly sits beside me — reading her books, colouring, or drawing.
But the moment I step away for a tea break or even a quick restroom break, she jumps onto my chair.
And that’s her moment.
She starts typing — or at least, what she believes is typing.
To make it more fun for her, I even got her a wireless keyboard. She happily uses it and genuinely believes she’s helping me with my office work.
A few days ago, she wanted to do some “real typing.” So I opened Notepad for her. She started pressing random keys — letters, numbers — and looked so focused doing it.
Then she said something that made me smile.
“Amma, I also want a salary… I’m helping you with office work!”
Today, she wanted to try again.
This time, I told her to observe what I was doing.
She noticed me pressing two keys together and immediately asked, “Why are you pressing two buttons?”
I was using Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V.
To make it interesting for her curious little mind, I copied a long paragraph and asked her to press Ctrl+V on Notepad.
She did.
And suddenly — a full page of text appeared.
Her eyes widened.
She looked at the screen… then at me… then back at the screen.
For her, it was magic.
She was so excited to see so many words appear in just one click. Because for her, typing each letter took effort and time — and here she was, creating something big instantly.
And in that moment, I realized something simple yet beautiful.
What feels ordinary to us…
feels magical to them.
And maybe, just maybe —
we’ve forgotten how to see magic in the little things.

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