One day the MD, the Unidog and Mummy took a walk.
‘So kiddo, what type of cake would you like for your birthday?’ asked Mummy.
“Unicorn” said the MD decisively.
‘That might be a bit tric-‘
“UNICORN”
Mummy was silent for a moment, internally cursing her choice of words. ‘What flavour cake’ she thought, ‘FLAVOUR’. She gave herself a mental slap and concluded by the laws of probability she’s pretty much, totally, guaranteed to ace her next Pinterest project. Unicorn cake, pah, piece of piss.
Unidog assessed the situation and took a dump directly in front of someone leaving their house. ‘Nailed it’ he thought. Luckily since the MD was gifted glitter play dough Unidog only poops glitter. So the stranger and Mummy laughed and laughed and laughed. They walked on.
‘What present would you like for your birthday?’ said Mummy
“Unicorn” replied the MD
‘…I don’t think they’re native to this country.’
“Uni.Corn”
‘Unless you can use your powers of pursuation to convince a rhino and a horse to get it on, that isn’t going to happen.’
“UNI.CORN”
‘Unicorn. Gotcha.’
Unidog rolled his eyes. He was, after all, eight years old yesterday and no member of this family asked what he wanted, or even bothered to remember his birthday. 56 in dog years and about time he got some sodding respect. So Unidog pissed on Mummy’s leg. While attempting to flee this onslaught Mummy made the inexcusable mistake of straying on to ‘the boy’s side of the pavement’ because sometimes even when someone sets out to fight gender stereotypes they still end up with their toddler dressed as a princess, shouting about unicorns on a gender segregated pavement.
After Mummy had assured the MD she wouldn’t turn in to a boy for walking on that side, and that it doesn’t really matter what’s between your legs anyway, they went home.
Mummy set to work on her guaranteed-to-suceed Pintrest project.
The Pintrest project failed and Mummy drank some more of the Pintrest fail fail gin.
Uni.Fucking.Corn.
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