Your pen falls off your desk and onto the floor. Ouch, you just hate bending down. Must be your teenager-ness....
"I just wish my pen would pick itself up!" you groan.
Then, in a poof of smoky stuff and a flash of light, your pen picks itself up. "Groovy," you think. "Just like a magical teapot in Teapottaddin."
You look around. Whatever, it was just your mind playing up.