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             HARRIS AND PHILIPPE: THE FIRST DAY
                        Short Story

                   by Julio Lonnie Lopez
                            2025
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A Harris and Philippe Story

Ms. Felipe was having what she called a "productive panic."
Her regular babysitter had just canceled, she was due at
work in an hour, and her son Philippe was still in his
pajamas eating cereal and reading the back of the box.

"Maybe I can clone myself," she muttered, scrolling through
a babysitting app on her phone. Her thumb paused over a
listing that hadn't been there a second ago: "HARRIS —
Magical Child Care Specialist. Available immediately.
Excellent references from various dimensions. Can handle
homework, bullies, and existential crises. Light show
included at no extra charge."

She was desperate enough not to question the odd wording.
Ten minutes and one surprisingly professional phone call
later, the doorbell rang.

Philippe opened the door to find a unicorn the size of a
horse wearing a business suit, complete with tie, though no
pants. His flowing mane seemed to contain actual starlight,
and his horn sparkled like a disco ball.

"Good morning!" the unicorn said in a deep, cheerful voice.
"I'm Harris, your new babysitter. I brought references." He
produced a stack of glowing letters that floated in mid-air.

Philippe blinked twice. "Mom! There's a unicorn at the
door!"

"That's nice, honey!" his mother called back from upstairs.
"Is he the babysitter?"

"Yes!"

"Perfect! Make sure he knows about your allergies!"

Philippe looked at Harris. Harris looked at Philippe. A
rainbow shot out of Harris's left nostril.

"I'm allergic to strawberries," Philippe said finally,
because that seemed like the most normal thing to focus on.

"Noted!" Harris replied, somehow making the floating
reference letters fold themselves into origami birds that
flew away. "Also, you should probably change out of your
pajamas. Unless..." His horn began to glow.

"What are you—" Philippe started to ask, but his pajamas
had already transformed into his school uniform. "Did you
just—"

"Magic is just good time management with sparkles," Harris
explained, now inexplicably wearing a wristwatch on each
leg. "Speaking of which..."

                           * * *

Ms. Felipe came downstairs, gathering her things. "Now,
Harris, emergency numbers are on the fridge, Philippe needs
to finish his breakfast, and—" She stopped, looking
around. "Did you redecorate?"

The living room had somehow acquired floating
constellations, a small waterfall that poured rainbow water
upward, and what appeared to be a miniature cloud that was
raining Skittles. Harris stood in the middle of it all,
looking perfectly professional despite now wearing a top hat
made of butterflies.

"Everything looks exactly the same as always," Harris said
smoothly.

"Oh, good," Ms. Felipe replied, grabbing her keys.
"Philippe, behave for Mr. Harris. Mr. Harris, thank you
again for coming on such short notice. I'll be back at six!"

After she left, Philippe stared at Harris. "She didn't
notice anything weird at all?"

"Adults only see what they expect to see," Harris explained,
pulling a complete breakfast spread out of his top hat. "For
instance, your mother thinks I'm wearing pants."

"But you're a unicorn!"

"Am I?" Harris asked mysteriously, then immediately ruined
the mystery by shooting orange creamsicle laser beams from
his eyes to warm up Philippe's now-cold cereal.

"This is crazy," Philippe declared. "You can't be my
babysitter. You're not even human!"

"Ah, but consider this counterargument," Harris said, and
farted a thunderclap so impressive it made the Skittle-rain
cloud do a backflip.

Philippe tried not to laugh. He failed. "Okay, but what are
we supposed to do all day?"

"Well," Harris said, consulting one of his many watches,
"according to your schedule, you have school in twenty
minutes. We should probably—"

"Oh no, I'm going to be late!" Philippe panicked, reaching
for his backpack.

"—step through this convenient portal I just made in your
cereal bowl."

"Wait, what?"

But they were already walking through the milk-white portal,
emerging directly in front of Philippe's classroom with two
minutes to spare. Philippe's cereal had somehow made the
journey without spilling a drop.

                           * * *

"How did you—"

"A good babysitter never reveals their methods," Harris said
wisely. "Unless it's really funny. Then they tell everyone."

"Will you be here when school's over?" Philippe asked,
surprised to find himself hoping the answer was yes.

"Of course! We haven't even had our first adventure yet."
Harris winked. "Also, you might want to check your backpack.
I think your homework tried to escape to the Geometry
Dimension again."

"Again? But this is the first time we've—"

"Is it?" Harris asked cryptically, then vanished in a puff
of glitter that smelled like tomorrow's breakfast.

Philippe walked into his classroom, sat down, and opened his
backpack. His homework was indeed there, completely
finished, written in ink that changed colors every three
seconds. At the bottom was a note: "P.S. — Your mom hired
me for the whole school year. P.P.S. — Yes, we're going to
have that much fun. P.P.P.S. — Don't worry about the time
paradox. I'll file the paperwork later."

And that's how Philippe got a unicorn for a babysitter,
though his mother still thinks she hired a perfectly normal
human who just happens to smell like orange creamsicles and
rainbow glitter.

Some say if you listen carefully during parent-teacher
conferences, you can still hear the thunder-farts.


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                    From False Universe
                 https://afalseuniverse.com
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