We celebrated L’s sixth birthday on Sunday. The birthday itself was a few weeks ago, but, in the spirit of actually having one’s friends make it to the party rather than be away on vacation, we waited for September 1st. I too haven an August birthday, so I understand. It also jibes with my wife’s tradition of turning her birthday into joyful weeks long romp. I liked having the party in Switzerland. In the U.S., no one shows up right on time, and I spend 10 minutes worry that know when will come and that my child (note: and I) will be scarred. Here, the first guest showed up five minutes early.
The theme of this year’s party was “Kittycorn.” Previous themes have been: rainbows, doggies, fruit, jungle, and cats. All things that exist.
For those of you not blessed with six-year-old girls in your life, a Kittycorn is cross between a cat and a unicorn, that is to say, a cat with a horn. As best I can tell, the Kittycorn was invented by the author illustrator team of Shannon Hale and Leuyen Pham. I first became aware of the kittycorn phenomenon in DC when L, then three or four, saw their book Itty-Bitty Kitty-Corn in the Scholastic reader catalog or some such. She knew immediately that she wanted it. The story is about a fluffy pink cat who fancies herself a unicorn, and is roundly mocked for her belief—by lizards, if I recall correctly—until she meets a unicorn who fancies herself a cat. Ultimately, they decide they are both Kittycorns and become great friends. It’s not horrible as children’s books go. It’s not great either. It’s neither Good Night Moon nor a book of 8,000 stories from the Frozen universe (Note: Norway?). Being a grown up who knows how to do “close reading” I assumed that the book was an allegory about trans-identity. So, unsurprisingly, have any number of mean-spirited right wing kooks.
Pham, the illustrator responded
How could anyone read the book that [author] Shannon Hale and I had created together in any negative way? The story is about a little pink kitten that wishes she was a unicorn, only to meet a real unicorn who wishes he were a kitty, and hardly seems like something that could be a target for book banning. The idea of it seemed so preposterous to me that I was sure that any person who took three minutes to read this picture book would have to agree with me. Where is the harm in this sweet story? Why protest such a symbol of peace and kindness?… How the audience chooses to interpret a story speaks much more of the mind of the audience themselves than the mind of the artist..
Well, I guess I’m just someone who chooses to see messages of love and acceptance of trans people everywhere. Good on me.
Regardless of whether the book is an homage to peace and acceptance or a direct insult to Jesus, it is most certainly not a crime against capitalism. All of a sudden, Kittycorn stuff was everywhere and little kids want it, Want It, WANT IT!!!!!! The idea is so simple that I regret not thinking of it.
Take one thing kids love.
Combine with other thing kids love.
Profit.
The kittycorn craze has even made it to Europe, though not quite to the extent it has in America. Despite the fact that I have absolute had to tell my kids we are not paying CHF 20 for a kittycorn balloon at various Swiss festivals (note: or more accurately CHF 40 for two kittycorn balloons) the stores are still not full of kittycorn toys. (Note: Though I did pay CHF 65 for a tank of helium to inflate five kittycorn balloons.) This left the parents of some party guests confused as to what to get L for a present. One cleverly combined a beautiful coloring book of cats with a book about unicorns. Another called asking if “puppycorn” was okay. “Yes!” I said, lamenting that I had missed out on yet another chance to throw a horn on something adorable and make money. I have since asked L what you would call a rhino with a unicorn horn. She initially answered “rhinocorn” before getting the joke and falling silent. I, for one, think a rhino with a unicorn horn is either a moose or, if it’s the kind of rhino that already has two horns, a triceratops.
We fleshed the party out with unicorn stuff, and L was, blessedly, not too picky. She was even tolerant of me saying that it is sad that unicorns went extinct because we ate them all. (Note: She knows they’ve never existed… What kind of father would I be if I told her we ate them all and she believed me? A funny one, yes… but too mean.) We had a unicorn slip and slide, unicorn streamers, unicorn plates, even unicorn beer—conveniently presented in a detachable, drinkable horn. (Note: Though I only got three because they were CHF 4.15 each. When the rhinocorn takes off, I will buy more.)
The balloons were all kittycorn though, as was the piñata, so we could reenact the hunt that lead to the extinction of the kittycorns
Thanks for the laugh (“direct insult to Jesus”). Also, picturing an actual cat with a horn is kinda terrifying.