“Do you want to see the new way I invented to get on a swing?” My Six Year Old Asked, “First you back way up and then you imagine you’re a unicorn with no horn and then you run and jump on the swing.”
“Wouldn’t a unicorn with no horn just be a horse?” I asked her.
“No Daddy,” she said with exasperation. “I mean a unicorn whose horn blew off in the wind. You have to imagine you’re a unicorn that lost its horn and you have to run faster than the wind to get it back.”
“Does imagining that help you run faster?” I asked
“Oh yeah!” she exclaimed.
“Daddy, I got a paper cut.” My Six Year Old informed me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “let me see it. Is it bleeding?”
“Well,” she replied, “it isn’t bleeding right now, but I think it is going to start bleeding soon. Daddy, can I please have a preemptive band-aid before it starts bleeding?”
“Would you like me to sing to you?” I asked My Six Year Old as I tucked her into bed.
“Sure!” she said with excitement, “how about Peter and the Wolf? You’re going to need a french horn, a violin, an oboe, a bassoon, a clarinet, and then you do the timpani drum, add some sound effects, and a story teller. I guess you could have a story teller robot if you want.”
“Sweetie,” I said, “I am not going to do a performance of Peter and the Wolf.”
“Oh yeah,” she replied, “I guess that’s more of a wake up song.”