No crumbs

I know it was one of my children. The missing circle of paper was too far from the edge. One perfect sheet of white A4, with a circle missing, the size of a mug-ring, for what purpose I can only guess.
The sheet caught my eye on Wednesday evening, lying on the oak dining table, when I came home from playing badminton and, I shrugged. What else to do, they'll learn better when they have to buy their own paper, I think.
And then my attention moved to a light snack, a drink, to bed. The paper didn't reconnect with my consciousness until the following morning. On my way from the kitchen, my eye was caught, a biscuit!
The grain of the dark wood took on the perfect disguise of a wire-cooked biscuit base, as though illuminated from one side. The illusion was enhanced because it is not all together unusual to find an occasional forgotten digestive biscuit lying on the dining table, abandoned when some other (usually electronic) distraction called.
Eldest son walked by, preparing to leave for school. "Do you want a biscuit?" I asked cheerily, nodding at the table. His hand reached out, hesitated with six inches to go, he laughed. Then we tried it out on middle son; he saw through it more quickly, I suspect because it was he who had cut the circle in the first place.
Knowing the illusion was there was little protection, for the rest of the morning until we went out, everyone glanced at the biscuit as they walked through the room, doing an amused double-take each time.