"I don't even know why it happens. What am I supposed to do, wish really hard and hope I get hit in the head with the right book?" He huffs, tucks himself against the arm of the sofa and swings his legs up so that he's facing her more than he's facing the TV (which has starting running a cartoon, but not one he recognizes).

"Do you think you could do better?" He actually curious. This is more or less his way of asking if she does know a way to control it.