FOUR BAD UNICORNS

A child’s bossy behavior threatens to spoil a game.

Narrator Connie, who uses a wheelchair, and her big sister, Frankie, have gone “UNICORN CRAZY!” They can’t wait to play Unicorn Farmers. Then the doorbell rings: Ada and Colin Beswick want to play, too. But Ada has her own ideas and assigns roles to everyone: First, Connie is a wall in the Unicorn Palace of Wonder; next, she and Colin are sleeping unicorns. Ada dubs herself the Queen of Unicorns—and takes Frankie’s twinkle high heels and then Connie’s wheelchair for her Throne of Rolling Power. Finally, after they’re sentenced to prison for “very BAD” dancing, Ada’s subjects revolt. Ada tearfully protests they’ve been bad unicorns; Colin counters that Ada’s been a bad queen. When Frankie opines they’ve all been bad unicorns, Connie proposes that they all be good unicorns together. The bright, expressive, unicorn-cluttered cartoon illustrations are inviting, and the matter-of-fact portrayal of Connie’s disability is refreshing. However, although Ada learns to be a better playmate, the author never makes clear that taking Connie’s wheelchair is a far greater misstep than taking Frankie’s high heels; the scene is a missed opportunity to emphasize that wheelchairs are not toys, but necessities that many users consider extensions of their bodies. Readers may also take issue with Frankie’s statement that they’ve all been “bad unicorns,” as the rebellion seems fully justified. Connie and her family present white; the Beswicks are brown-skinned.

A well-meaning but flawed take on conflict resolution.