Can You See My Finger?

The other day I arrived home from work, put my bike in the garage, then closed the big door. I turned to head for the house when I heard a squeaky voice from next door?

"Hi Jim!"

I looked in the direction of the voice and found only the six foot tall, wooden fence. It was obviously our five-year-old neighbor, Lilly, calling through the fence from her back yard.

"Hi Lilly," I replied. "I can hear you but I can't see you."

I turned to go, but the voice stopped me again.

"Can you see my finger?"

What? I carefully searched the plain white fence, then finally spotted the tiny finger, wriggling like a caterpillar, protruding from an impossibly small knothole.

"Yes Lilly, I can see you now."