Not so long ago Matthew walked out of Kroger with a stuffed lavender unicorn under his arm.
I was waiting in the car and he presented it to me with a flourish. I squealed like a little girl, named it Corny, carried it around, and later tucked it into bed. Yes, I know that I'm being ridiculous but I DON'T CARE I LIKE UNICORNS DEAL WITH IT. Plus the unicorn joke Matthew and I had with Mary Beth when we were getting to know each other has not yet gotten old.
It started when Mary Beth said to Matthew, "You know that you and Jessica aren't dating and she's in Berlin. You can go out with other people."
(Namely the girl who hit on him, who he'd had a thing for.)
Matthew's A+++ reply was, "But why should I have a horse when I can have a unicorn?"
Mary Beth told me later and I was thrilled. I am that unicorn!
My mom was over and saw it and said, "Jessica. What is that?" in a serious voice.
"It's a unicorn," I answered matter of factly.
One night I was laying on the couch with Corny propped up on my hip. I must have shifted my weight because Corny tipped forward and fell into my peripheral vision and I jumped. Jumped! And my pulse took off like crazy, and a fear that can only be described as prehistoric rushed through me.
Was there was a tarantula creeping onto my stomach? Or something else with fangs and tons of legs? Or cold-blooded? With a shitload of eyes? Can it at least have an exoskeleton?
Nope, just a soft purple unicorn.