It's evil incarnate. And it's sitting on my dresser.
We are now the proud possessors of the biggest, brightest, ugliest pinata ever created.
You see, Lucy has been saying for months that she wants a pinata at her birthday, even though they've never been a part of our birthday party routine before. But we said sure, she could have a pinata. And, at a friend's recent party, there was a pinata, and we got to watch Lucy take a wallop at one for the first time.
It was intense. She took ahold of that bat and whacked the poor, defenseless pinata as though she was going to beat the very life out of it. Each of the kids was only allowed three hits, but I think Lucy would have just kept on going if she hadn't been forced to hand the bat over to someone else.
Sweet, snuggly, little Lucy. Who would have thought? Four years old and already she's apparently got some suppressed rage issues to work out.
So we went to the store today, and walked up and down the aisle with the pinatas, craning our necks up to see them up there. There were flowers and race cars and sombreros and a rainbow one that I thought was really cute, but no. Lucy knew exactly which one she wanted. It's a great big frickin hideous unicorn.
It is as tall as Evie is. It is vividly, violently, pink. And, I'm sorry, but it just looks mean. Look at those eyes. It's evil. I think it may be the paper-mache incarnation of one of those flesh-eating unicorns my girls are always pretending to be. I have it stored in my bedroom, so as to prevent any pre-birthday pinata ruination, but now every time I walk in there it's sitting on my dresser glaring at me.
I'm kind of looking forward to watching Lucy take this sucker down.
You see, Lucy has been saying for months that she wants a pinata at her birthday, even though they've never been a part of our birthday party routine before. But we said sure, she could have a pinata. And, at a friend's recent party, there was a pinata, and we got to watch Lucy take a wallop at one for the first time.
It was intense. She took ahold of that bat and whacked the poor, defenseless pinata as though she was going to beat the very life out of it. Each of the kids was only allowed three hits, but I think Lucy would have just kept on going if she hadn't been forced to hand the bat over to someone else.
Sweet, snuggly, little Lucy. Who would have thought? Four years old and already she's apparently got some suppressed rage issues to work out.
So we went to the store today, and walked up and down the aisle with the pinatas, craning our necks up to see them up there. There were flowers and race cars and sombreros and a rainbow one that I thought was really cute, but no. Lucy knew exactly which one she wanted. It's a great big frickin hideous unicorn.
It is as tall as Evie is. It is vividly, violently, pink. And, I'm sorry, but it just looks mean. Look at those eyes. It's evil. I think it may be the paper-mache incarnation of one of those flesh-eating unicorns my girls are always pretending to be. I have it stored in my bedroom, so as to prevent any pre-birthday pinata ruination, but now every time I walk in there it's sitting on my dresser glaring at me.
I'm kind of looking forward to watching Lucy take this sucker down.
3 comments:
That is one FABULOUSLY pink unicorn :)
Jules is determined to have a pinata for her birthday, and the highlight of our weekly grocery shopping trips is walking down the pinata aisle. Of course, she is naturally quite violent, so it's no surprise that she dreams of beating a pinata with every fiber of her being. She only has to wait seven more months...
Have fun with your unicorn!
Bring a saw - every pinata we've ever had has not responded to even the most fervent batting!
Now I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that - even after meeting Mr. Pinata in real life - I was under the impression that he was a violently pink pack-mule (a la Juan Valdez, gone very wrong), not a unicorn. :( Perhaps it was his undersized horn? No wonder he was angry.
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