It’s all about the unicorns
My foster daughter has this habit of saying “Guess what?” without giving any further clues or context. In the beginning, I would ask for hints or detail, but she would just demand that I guess. And there is no way I’d ever come close so I started to just make up guesses.
So when she says “Guess what?” I reply with things like:
You were on your way out to the playground at recess when this herd of pink unicorns came careening down out of the lentil fields right toward you and your friends. And just moments before they impaled you with their silvery horns, flying monkeys swooped down and picked you up with their teeth then flew you to a rainbow where you could sit safely whilst the herd passed by. Afterward, you were able to slide down the rainbow and land safely on a bed of marshmallows.
You were sleeping soundly when all of the sudden a troll with purple hair woke you with hushed tones and told you to hop on to his unicorn so that he could ride you to safety because there was a dragon outside your bedroom window who was going to kidnap you and take you to the Land of the Firebreathers where you would be forced to repair all of the broken claws and scales that the dragons got when they were fighting the evil orgs who ruled Swamp Kingdom.
And she just rolls her eyes and lets me know that the thing I was supposed to guess was that some kid at school broke their fingernail or something.
But it won’t end there. No, after she tells me what I was meant to guess, she then lets me know that, in fact, there are no pink unicorns (don’t be silly!) and that dragons don’t need someone to repair their claws and scales because (of course) they have special regeneration powers that mean they fix themselves.
Anyhow, my unicorn-based guesses are getting more creative. But they are also turning up in my adult conversations these days. Oh well. Folks already knew I was crazy, believing in unicorns fits right in with my current residency in La-La-Land.