Can't Beat These Odds

So, I'm working in the kitchen today, and Gabe (5) is in the doorway to the next room.  He asks me, "Heads or tails, Mommy?"
"Heads," I say.

"You're right," says he.

My back is turned to him, so I can't see exactly how he's flipping his coin, but I assume he's learned this latest trick from one of his big sisters.  (It's amazing the way they pass things down to one another when you least expect it...)

Again, he asks me, "Heads or tails, Mommy?"

"Tails," I say this time.

"You're right!" he says.

"Woohoo!"  I say.

"You wanna do it again?"  He says.

"You bet, " say, still cleaning out the sink, my back turned to him.

"OK.  Heads or tails?"

"Heads."

"You're right!

At this point, I'm starting to think I'm doing amazingly well, but I still have the splatters on the window over the sink to wipe off, so I don't check to see Gabe's method.

"Heads or tails?" again he asks.

"Heads!"  I say, and turn around to see if I could possibly have hit it again.  I never thought I was that lucky!  I've got to check it out. As I enter the doorway, I'm just in time to see him toss the penny (It's a penny, of course) just an inch or so away from his hand, catch it, and, in expert imitation of his sisters, flip it over onto his other hand.  He looks up as I lean over to look at the outcome, and says, "You're right again, Mommy!" 

But, I'm not right.  There the penny lies in his upturned palm -- most definitely flipped to tails. No question about it; there's the Lincoln Memorial.

 "So, Gabe..." I say, "that looks like tails to me." Maybe he doesn't really know the difference between heads and tails, I'm thinking, so I try to clarify,  "That's not Lincoln's face." 

"Sure it is, Mommy," he says with authority.  "Look," he says.  And he flips the penny over.  "See? Here's his face; it was just next to my hand that time."

It's true what they say: Mommy is always right.

If everyone played like Gabey, I might actually like gambling!