The Anti-Unicorn

I watched “Bend it Like Beckham” this morning with Kavi, in preparation for her starting soccer (and me starting coaching). A fascinating movie to watch with a nine-year-old part-South Asian daughter — we paused several times to discuss various things. I think the funniest moment, though, was at the wedding, when one of the participants came in on a horse, and Kavi said, “A horse!”

And I told her that back when I was dating white boys originally, my mom said that if I’d just marry a Sri Lankan, I could get married in Sri Lanka and ride in on an elephant, which, I admit, was not an inconsiderable inducement. Kavi said that was cool, but she’d rather have a horse, and then she’d put a carrot on it and paint it so it looked like she was riding in on a unicorn.

Unicorns are, it turns out, the coolest — they had a discussion in Spanish class at school, and unicorns were determined to be cooler than horses, cooler than dogs, cooler than basically everything. Kavi says their scale now goes up to unicorn at the top. At the bottom? Donald Trump. Trump is the anti-unicorn.

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