Amelia and the Preschool Incident

Chapter Three: The Preschool Unicorn Incident

Amelia Jean Stratton had barely recovered from Spark’s latest round of chaos when her younger sister, Iris, made an announcement at breakfast.

“Spark’s coming to preschool today!” Iris declared, her mouth full of pancake.

“No, she’s not,” Amelia said, narrowing her eyes at Spark, who was casually perched on the counter—this time in the fruit bowl, again.

“Of course I am,” Spark said, shrinking down to Iris’s size and adjusting the tiara on her head. “It’s Pajama Day! How could I miss such an event?”

“You’re not going,” Amelia hissed. “The last time you showed up at preschool, you started a glitter revolution!”

“It was an artistic uprising,” Spark corrected. “Googlyopia thanks me for my service.”

“Iris,” Mom interjected, carrying a mug of coffee to the table, “you need to eat your breakfast and not invite magical creatures to school.”

“No unicorn, no snacks!” Iris shouted, crossing her arms and glaring with the ferocity of a union boss.

Dad raised an eyebrow over his coffee. “It’s like dealing with a four-year-old negotiator.”

“She is four,” Elias pointed out between bites of toast.

“Mom,” Amelia pleaded, pointing at Spark, “you can’t let her do this.”

Mom sighed, clearly out of patience. “Fine. Spark can come for one hour. One hour. No magic. No glitter. No… whatever it is you normally do.”

Spark saluted with a hoof. “I shall be the model of restraint.”

Amelia buried her face in her hands. “I’m doomed.”

The Great Preschool Adventure

When they arrived at preschool, Spark had already shifted herself down to Iris’s height and donned the most ridiculous outfit Amelia had ever seen: rainbow-striped pajamas and bunny slippers, which Spark claimed to have “borrowed” from Iris’s closet.

“Spark!” Amelia hissed as they walked into the classroom. “You’re supposed to blend in!”

“I am blending in,” Spark replied, striking a pose that sent her mane glittering in all directions. “Blending in fabulously.”

The preschoolers immediately swarmed her.

“SPARK!” one kid shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

“She’s so shiny!”

“Can I ride her?”

“No rides today,” Spark said, holding up a hoof. “Today is about lounging, snacks, and the sacred art of Pajama Day.”

Amelia groaned. “This is going to be a disaster.”

Iris, meanwhile, was thrilled. “Come on, Spark! Let’s make friendship bracelets!”

“Lead the way, Princess Iris,” Spark said, trotting after her.

Snack Time: The Chaos Begins

It didn’t take long for Spark to forget her promise to Mom. Snack time was going fine—until Spark discovered the graham crackers.

“These are delicious!” Spark declared, chomping on a cracker with gusto. “Do humans know how amazing these are?”

“Yes,” Amelia muttered, watching Spark with growing dread.

Spark turned to the teacher, who was handing out juice boxes. “Excuse me, wise mortal, may I have more of these ‘graham crackers’ for my royal treasury?”

The teacher blinked. “Did that unicorn just… talk to me?”

“No!” Amelia said quickly, laughing awkwardly. “You must be hearing things!”

“Definitely,” Spark said, winking at Amelia.

The teacher stared for another second before mumbling, “I need a coffee,” and walking away.

“Crisis averted,” Spark said, brushing crumbs from her mane.

“Not really,” Amelia muttered.

Glitterpocalypse 2.0

The real chaos began during craft time. The preschoolers were making macaroni necklaces, but Spark had other ideas.

“Why settle for macaroni,” Spark said, her horn glowing, “when you could have stardust jewelry?”

Before Amelia could stop her, Spark unleashed a wave of glitter that coated the craft table—and most of the preschoolers—in shimmering sparkles.

“SPARK!” Amelia shouted, her hair now glitter-coated.

The preschoolers, however, were delighted.

“More sparkles!” one kid yelled.

“I’m a rainbow!” another cheered.

The teacher returned, took one look at the glitter-covered classroom, and sighed deeply. “I should’ve stayed in bed today.”

Amelia grabbed Spark by the mane and dragged her into the hallway. “What part of ‘no glitter’ did you not understand?”

“I restrained myself,” Spark said defensively. “There were no explosions this time!”

“You’re lucky Mom gave you an hour,” Amelia hissed. “Because it’s almost up!”

Spark nodded solemnly. “Then let us make this final minute the most glorious of all!”

Amelia groaned. “I hate when you say things like that.”

The Aftermath

When they got home, Mom was waiting by the door.

“Well?” she asked, arms crossed.

“Everything’s fine!” Amelia said quickly, trying to sound convincing.

Mom raised an eyebrow. “Why is there glitter in your hair?”

“Uh… art project?”

“Art project,” Mom repeated flatly.

From behind Amelia, Spark—now hamster-sized—poked her head out of Amelia’s backpack. “It was a glitter accident. Totally unavoidable.”

Mom sighed. “Amelia, you’re in charge of vacuuming the car tomorrow. And no more unicorns at preschool.”

“Agreed,” Amelia said, glaring at Spark.

Dad walked in, sipping his coffee. “Let me guess: another glitterpocalypse?”

“Pretty much,” Amelia replied.

“Great,” Dad said. “I’ll add more vacuum bags to the shopping list.”

As Amelia flopped onto her bed later that evening, Spark curled up on her pillow.

“You have to admit,” Spark said, grinning, “that was pretty spectacular.”

“Spectacularly ridiculous,” Amelia muttered, though she couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Ridiculous is just another word for fun,” Spark said, snuggling closer.

Amelia sighed. “You’re impossible.”

“And you,” Spark said with a wink, “are my favorite mortal.”

Amelia smiled despite herself. “Good night, Spark.”

“Good night, Amelia Jean. Dream of glitter.”

The End (for now, anyway!)

Disclosure: These prose were written with the assistance of OpenAI’s ChatGPT 4o.