There are times when you see the unicorn - that moment, skill, action, smile, word - that you didn't think existed or had seen so long ago it was forgotten. When we see the unicorn, we approach slowly so as not to startle it. We keep our head down, we move quietly. We hold out our hand and let the unicorn come to us.
Or - sometimes - we charge at the unicorn like a rhinoceros.
Jacob (my perpetual "who will play with me? kid") was downstairs with his ("can I please play by myself?") sister when a fight broke out. Apparently, Allison had agreed to play with Jacob. And not just play with him - play videogames with him. Enter the unicorn.
Jacob was unhappy with Allison's game request (Skylanders). Enter the rhino.
Allison happily trotted out of this situation (to the grave upset of her brother), driven forward by hopes of greener fields upstairs with her Monster High Dolls. The path to freedom was blocked by Mom, who managed to broker a brief truce between the rhino and the unicorn. The unicorn offered three other games to play. The rhino was undeterred. The rhino offered three other games to play. The unicorn was uninterested.
After much roaring and foot stomping from the rhino (literally), the unicorn was set free to feast on greener pastures.
Ultimately, brokered peace deals are only one quick head turn away from disaster when you have two beasts with sharp horns.
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