"Proof," Zander says, grinning.
"Proof of what?"
"Unicorns!"
"How?"
"It's unicorn poop. I found it at school."
"Yeah," says Noa, rocking on her toes. "Da purrpull uk-e-corn dat poops out wainbows! Dat's his poop. It's a wainbow. Don't fwow it in da darbidge, o-tay Mommy?...Pwomise?"
"Okay, Noa, I promise."
And so, I have become the proud owner of mystical manure, captivating caca, delightful doo-doo, real honest-to-goodness unicorn ordure. Someone better alert the Ministry of Magic - I probably need a license.
I love your children.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I admire about you is the way you see the world. Clearly being an artist and all you've got a different perception of it than others (don't we all, artist or not?), but I like how you take ordinary things, such as Unicorn poop, and turn it into a sweet and interesting blog post. I thoroughly enjoy seeing the world through your eyes and hope I can find the beauty in simple things such as those as frequently as you do :)
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