When my daughter was younger I told her that she was born with a third, menacing eye. She called it her Big Red Old Eye. I told her the eye never slept, and stared at people, and because it made us so nervous we took her to the hospital and had it removed before her first birthday.
"You used to lie in your crib and poke at it," we'd say.
She does not believe in the Big Red Old Eye any longer.
"That's really bad for you," she said, confusing it with pink eye.
"No, the Big Red Old eye in the middle of your forehead."
"I never had a Big Red Old Eye. You and mom made that up."
She probably thinks I made up my friend Jonesie, who has a third arm and wears a bird in his top hat, as well.