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I didn't notice my husband's magical powers right away.

It began on a typical Saturday morning, with Kevin downstairs watching a soccer game he'd recorded the night before. In the next room - and this is key - the boys eat breakfast while discussing their "who-gets-to-play-videogames-first" strategy.

Having just showered, I'm upstairs getting ready to blow-dry my hair. The moment I turn the hairdryer on, my younger son ("P") pops his head in the bathroom.

"Mom?"

Hairdryer off.

"What's up, P?" I ask.

"Can I play video games? I did all my chores," he explains.

"Sure."

P bolts downstairs to turn on the PS4.

Hairdryer on. Three seconds go by.

"Mom!"

Hairdryer off.

"What's up, T?" I ask, already knowing where this conversation is headed.

"No fair!" he whines. "Why does P get to play video games first? I did all my chores, too."

"Because he asked me first, I guess. Why didn't you just ask Dad? He's downstairs watching the soccer game."

T replies, "Oh, I didn't see him."

Didn't see him, he says.

Didn't notice the TV blaring in the room right next to the kitchen where T just came from.

Didn't hear Kevin yelling, "He was OFFSIDES!"

And that's when it struck me - Kevin was wearing his invisibility cloak.

All those times, thousands upon thousands of times, when the boys came to me for help or permission or protection (from each other), they sought me out - even though Kevin was within arm's reach. Why? They simple didn't see Kevin.

The invisibility cloak masked Kevin like Harry Potter trying to escape the clutches of Voldemort. It veiled him from the always-needing-me Muggles so they'd walk right past him in search of me.

It all became so clear now. The verbal battles I refereed, the split-decision judgments I rendered, the permission-granting wishes I delivered like anticipated birthday gifts. All these petitions from my kids occurred - not because I was their favorite parent, as I had begun to believe - but because of Kevin's covert presence in the house. I had been duped by Dad's magic.

Wait a minute…those times when Kevin claimed he "didn't see" the laundry basket at the bottom of the stairs waiting to be carried up, the garbage bag waiting to be taken outside or the cat vomit waiting to be cleaned up, it wasn't the ol' invisibility cloak trick, was it?

Damn, Kevin even used his magic on me. He's good.

- Lisa Beach

Lisa Beach is a recovering stay-at-home mom and homeschooler who lived to write about it. Her blog, Tweenior Moments, offers relatable insights about middle-aging like a fine wine: down-to-earthy and complex, medium-bodied, with a hint of sarcasm and a smooth-but-wrinkled finish. She lives in Florida with her husband, two teen boys and one really fat cat. She's a blogger and humor writer about middle age, parenting, family life and all the baggage that goes with it.