Summary

A father recounts the surreal experience of stepping in homemade "unicorn poop" while navigating his house in the dark to get water for his thirsty child.

Abstract

The article humorously describes the unexpected and bizarre challenges of fatherhood, as exemplified by a late-night encounter with a sticky, sparkly, and blue substance created by his children, which he initially mistakes for Play-Doh. The substance, referred to as "unicorn poop," causes a minor domestic crisis as he tries to clean it off, only to discover its true origin and the creativity of his children. The incident leads to a humorous exchange with his daughters and a resigned commitment to replace the carpet, which his wife approves of, having requested its removal for months.

Opinions

The author conveys a sense of humor and exasperation about the unpredictable nature of parenting.
He acknowledges the cunning and resourcefulness of his children, who use their parents' sleepiness and poor night vision against them.
The father shows a mix of resignation and affection towards his children's antics, despite the inconvenience they cause.
There is an underlying appreciation for the creativity involved in making "unicorn poop," even if it leads to a mess.
The wife's reaction implies a shared sense of humor and a pre-existing desire to change the home decor, suggesting a dynamic of mutual understanding and compromise in the couple's relationship.

I Stepped In Unicorn Poop?

When you become a father, you find yourself uttering phrases you never thought you’d say in a million years.

Photo by Joen Patrick Caagbay on Unsplash

When you become a father, you find yourself uttering phrases you never thought you’d say in a million years. “What do you mean I stepped in unicorn poop?” belongs in this category.

Let me back up.

Children are good at making parents tiptoe through a booby trapped house barefoot in the dark. Basically, they turn your life into that scene from ‘First Blood’ when Sheriff Teasle’s deputies are cut to ribbons by Rambo’s primitive traps.

To be clear, you’re one of the deputies in this scenario.

Everything you’ve heard about stepping on a Lego is true. It’s important to maintain body control otherwise you might accidentally throw yourself down the stairs.

Although they might act like drunken adults most of the time, children are highly adept at getting the better of you. They know that you’re groggy when you’re half-asleep. They know your eyesight is terrible in the dark. That’s why they wait until it’s two in the morning to wake you up and demand a glass of water.

“I’m thirsty!”

The call is worse than an alarm. After all, you can crush your alarm clock with a hammer to stop it. With your kids, there’s no option but to procure the water.

I rubbed my eyes and moved to the edge of the bed. I’ve been at this long enough that I have conditioned myself to put on slippers. The slippers don’t completely stop the pain of a Lego piece, but they can keep you from throwing yourself down the stairs.

On this particular night it was easy, too easy. I maneuvered into the bathroom, filled up the glass and made my way back towards the hall. On the last step before my foot left the tile of the bathroom, I had the dim sense that I’d stepped on something squishy.

I tried to ignore it.

I realized my mistake the moment my foot hit the hallway carpet.

Definitely squishy.

I still took one more step before the emergency override kicked in, “Stop you fool! You’re tracking something all over the house!”

I pulled off my slipper with one hand and groped for the light switch with the other. As the searing light burned out my eyes, I discovered something soft and sparkly and sticky on my shoe.

“What the…”

Okay, I’ll just scrape it off, I thought. It must be some Play-Doh or something.

But it didn’t come off. It was unbelievably sticky and now I discovered it was staining my fingers blue. I glanced at the floor and noticed two major blue blotches.

“Arghh!”

I’ve been married long enough to know when to keep trying to fix something, and when to just throw what you’re working on away. The answer is always throw it away. I tossed the soiled slipper in the garbage. I kept the other one because I knew that would drive my wife crazy. Then I washed my hands. Three minutes later my hands were still blue.

“What the…”

“I’m thirsty!”

Drying off my hands, I went into the bedroom. Both my girls were awake. I handed over the water. “Hey kids, I just stepped in something blue, sticky and sparkly in the bathroom.”