Once upon a time called As We Speak, in a towering lakeside kingdom, there lived a magical creature known as the Auntiecorn. (She’s still alive, of course. She’s FINE. No, she hasn’t moved; she still lives right where we left her last week, but fairy tales are always told in past tense. It’s only confusing if you think about it, so just stop thinking and listen.)
The Auntiecorn is a special breed of aunties: they are grown up, yet they are never old. Because the Auntiecorn does not have children, they have the energy of an army of enchanted grasshoppers . In their purses, amongst the makeup you like to smear all over your face, and the credit cards I have told you a thousand times to stop licking, is time: boundless time, sparkling like diamonds dressed up as stars. Auntiecorns eat those time-diamonds like Mama eats breath mints. (We’re still talking about Auntie. Just the one Auntie. Auntie Rosy. The one in Chicago.)
Remember that costume trunk, all painted up with your picture on it? And the handwritten book, all about you? They were brought to you by Auntiecorn’s time-crunching power. (I know—wow. Cool! No. Leave the trunk alone. We’ll play dress-up tomorrow.)
The Auntiecorn is the ultimate legendary being. She’s better than Santa because the gifts she gives are not contingent on your ability to sustain the sham of good behavior. In fact, the opportunity to indulge in other-than-good behavior is perhaps the best gift of all, a gift only an Auntiecorn can give.
“Let’s roll these Twinkies in sprinkles, slice them up, put them on coasters, and eat them with chopsticks! Let’s sit on the floor!” says Auntiecorn. “Sushi Time! No pants? NO PROBLEM!” (Yes, I know about what happened to the pants. And no, you’re not in trouble. This time.)
Auntiecorn Rosy has awesome adventures all the time. She once rode a bike across the French countryside! She knows her way around a Tokyo toilet! Just last month, she even dressed up as herself (from horn to hooves) and ran a half-marathon on Halloween. She didn’t win the race. She didn’t have to, because being awesome is its own reward. They had to hand out consolation prizes to help the other runners get over how unawesome they were in comparison to Auntiecorn Rosy.
The Auntiecorn is related to the unicorn, and that’s no accident. A better fairy tale writer than your mama, summed up the unicorn’s magic by saying if you believe in the unicorn, it will believe in you. I’ll bet Lewis Carroll knew this because he had an Auntiecorn, too. (No, we are not related to a man named Carroll. And men can be named Carroll, too!)