Glancing back at my daughter from the front passenger seat, I notice flecks of green around her mouth.
“Baby, what are you eating?” I say, reaching back to investigate, and snagging one of the crumbs, I realize what it is. “Are you eating a crayon?”
She shoots me a giddy grin, giggles and replies: “Yes,” a word she has recently mastered and forcefully overpronounces with an extra-hard “y” and “s.”
“How does she have a crayon?” My wife asks, peering into the rear view mirror.
Like many great toddlers before her, our daughter has made a habit of eating crayons, often turning coloring time into snack time. Why she enjoys this is beyond me. It can’t be the taste. Is it the texture? The color? The size and shape? Or is it just that it drives Mommy and Daddy nuts?
I hold out my hand. “Okay, can you give Daddy the crayon?”
She pulls the crayon from its hiding place between her leg and the side of her car seat and places it in my palm. And as soon as I see it, I can’t stop laughing.
For some reason, my little girl had decided that instead of the typical carrot-style bite for this particular crayon, she’d opt for more of a corn-on-the-cob approach.
Still in stitches, I look back to my daughter and see a proud, green-toothed smile. She holds out a hand and asks, “More?”
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If not, perhaps you ought to try the Crayola 64 platter.