When we get home in the evening the Jr. VP likes to sit at the kitchen table and have a snack while Daddy opens up his laptop and/or starts thinking about dinner. After, or sometimes during his snack the lad likes to color. He has a big tub of crayons and a bunch of scratch paper kept in reach on the kitchen table. “Only on the paper” comes out of his mouth as he’s coloring, since he’s heard someone say that to him a couple of (dozen) times before and now he knows to remind himself. A nice time is had coloring until, invariably, the lad tries to color with the white crayon. And, no matter how hard he presses, nothing happens. I curse you to lowest depths of Hades vile fiend!* he yells at the seemingly unmarked white paper. Maybe I should get him some colored construction paper?
Actually, it is white crayon itself that most infuriates the Jr. VP. Frankly I’m surprised he hasn’t broken it into fifteen pieces and flushed it down the toilet yet. I hope that’s how he gets rid of it anyway. I am a little bit afraid that in a fit of anger Jr. might fling the white crayon down the heating vent, or into the oven, or in some other inconvenient location, and then forget to tell Daddy about it. I really probably ought to hide that thing. Or at least assign one of the flying monkeys to guard it.
* Or something like that.
