My daughter has a unicorn. Named Unicorn. I sent her with Dave to pick up a birthday present for Caius at Toys'r'us. I gave specific orders to both father and daughter that the point of the exercise was to learn about getting a present for someone; that it was better to leave the store empty handed than leave the store with something for Sam. I told Dave to be patient with her. "This will take some work" I said. They came home with some long-ago-forgotten baby toy, and Unicorn.
Time to digress for a moment:
Before Sam was born, Selina and I were discussing the most likely ways I would torture my daughter. I told her I needed an epic plan. Something completely off the wall and something I could spend her entire life setting up. That is when we developed The Collection. It will either fail miserably or turn out to be the greatest prank we've ever pulled. I intend to write about this idea in detail when I obtain the first piece. (Hopefully this holiday season. No promises.)
The problem is, the plan relies heavily on Sam sharing my disdain for cheap, broken items that fail to age well. So far, it appears there is a better chance than not the plan will backfire. (Both Unicorn and Little Plastic Cow conspire against me.) I'm not ready to call it off, but I'm leery. Just sayin'.
Sam: Mommy, what do unicorns eat?
Me: Each other. That's why they are extinct.
About four hours later.
Sam: I don't have ANYTHING hilarious!
Me: Of course you do!
Sam: I do? Where is it?
Me: In the bathroom (her brother was taking a bath, I was referring to him)
Samantha runs into the bathroom and returns, less than enthused.
Sam: Its just Daddy. He's about to take a dump. (I have NO IDEA where she heard that phrase! Still, I laugh as she wanders off to her room)
Sam: Mommy! Mommy! I brought you something ELSE that is hilarious!
She hands me Unicorn.
Me: Um. Awesome. So what does it eat?
Sam: A Chudder. Because its pink.
