Unicorn Floaty

Before I arrived, I thought my friends kids would love the unicorn and think it was cool. But they didn’t. Or, they didn’t let it show for days.

Fine with me. I spent a good part of every afternoon pulling the little ones around on the unicorn and on my donut float (a round inner-tube style float with a mesh bottom where the hole should be. Two little kids fit in it perfectly.

We found that the unicorn was safer and less likely to tip over if two kids ride her and two go in the donut. I loop a strap around both floats, and pull them. The water is deep enough that I can stay submerged (cause it’s HOT out there) and backwards skip/swim back and force across the cove.

The lake bottom is mostly sand but also has patches of rock, so I’m glad I’m wearing my water shoes or my feet would get ripped up.

The first day I started giving rides, the kids were pretty wild and squirmy. Four of them, all five, two with the same name. M, K, and J and J. I needed to get them focused so we could all try to aim toward a single direction or goal.

I set down three rules: the unicorn is about peace, love, and sharing. So, no fighting about who sits in front or who sits in the donut or on the unicorn. Everyone gets a turn. And everyone has to wear a life jacket. I had to do a bit of refereeing, but they were really pretty well-behaved. M talked about the various combinations of kids and unicorns. Two boys could ride the unicorn, and the unicorn could be a boy or a girl. A girl and a boy could ride on the unicorn, and it could be a boy or a girl, etc. and so on. M also want solo rides on the unicorn, so I worked that into the turns. “This is my unicorn,” she said, clutching it around the neck. I told her that actually it was MINE, ALL MINE but she should pretend away. We discussed having fairy names and unicorn names. She told me that her mother didn’t like her to have nicknames, but since she wasn’t on land but on a unicorn and in the make-believe realm that she could do it. Some day she will be famous or fabulous at her job or whatever she does. I loved how she used her mind. She was ok with the rules and knew that she needed times to disregard them.

So, back and forth across the cove. Conversations, discussions, questions. Whenever a little squirmish was about to erupt, I reminded them, “you are on a unicorn, you need to be chill. relax.”

Suddenly J yanked of his trunks, “I’m peeing on the unicorn.” Squeals of delight all around. Then the kids in the donut, “we’re peeing in the donut.” Then every ten minutes J pulled off his trunks to pee whether he was in or out of the water. I averted my eyes, and told them it was actually bad to pee in the lake, the pristine, pure lake. But the tone had been set.

The next day, I asked my lifflte friends if they remember the three rules of the unicorn? Nobody did. I repeated them, then added, “and no peeing. I’m serious. You guys hurt my feelings. How would you feel if I peed all over YOUR toys?” Clearly, the parents had talked to the kids, and one of them added, “yea, you guys, we have to respect her things.” J needed to challenge, but I assured him that if he peed again, he was off the unicorn forever.

He wondered if he could pull off the plug cap. I told him that the unicorn would deflate, maybe even tip over, and either way, they could all get hurt. Again, I let him know that if he did something like that I would take him off the unicorn (they had named it, “Rainbow Una Nappy”) forever. I could tell he was ansty to find a way to get that energy out, so I suggested that he think up all the naughty and dangerous things he would like to do on the unicorn, then draw them on paper when he got home. He liked that idea and being able to talk about what he would draw. We had a fabulous day.

The parents were always so sweet, thanking me when I brought the kids in. I thanked them, too, because I really enjoyed spending time with the kids and being able to do something so simple that they enjoyed so much. Both the attention and the unicorn. My life is hard, boring, lonely, and stressful. So, it’s really nice to find out that there are some things I can do and feel useful.

I loved how each day we all found a unicorn rhythm. I got the boys to use the back padding to actually recline on both of the floats. “How fancy for you to have a friend to pull you around this beautiful lake on a unicorn,” I said. I pointed out the gold dust in the water, “magic unicorn dust.”

After a few days, the teens thought they might take the unicorn out for a spin one evening. They paddled off into the haze, returning 30 min later to tell me that they had renamed the unicorn, “Pixie.” The next day the littles wanted to rename Rainbow Una Nappy, and I said, “hey, the teenagers already named her Pixie.” All agreed that Pixie was the perfect name.

---