The Big Box of Crayons

It's funny how a little object can bring so many memories to mind.  Yesterday while I was working on a dumb coloring project (dumb because I started it last August and still haven't finished it) I got to thinking about crayons.

Memory One:
When my parents came home from their mission my sister and I started on the above mentioned project.  At the time, we were still living in their house so I had access to the big bucket of crayons that my mom had accumulated throughout my childhood.  A few weeks later when Owen and I moved out again, I realized *gasp* I didn't have any crayons.  Yes, you read that right...I DIDN'T HAVE ANY CRAYONS!!!  How I managed to be married 3 1/2 years (not to mention being an elementary education major) without my own crayons is beyond me.  I had colored pencils, every shade of marker known to man in every tip size you can imagine, water color pencils and oil pastels...but no crayons!!!  I wonder if I even had any while I was single and out of my parents house?  Maybe I really did have some at one point and they were lost or broken (more on the broken later), but it really is just not like me to NOT have crayons nearby.

There really is a point to this story, so anyway, while Owen and I were at the store one day (the only one we have) I gravitated to the wonderful aisle with all the school-type art supplies (you know, the Crayola stuff) and sat staring at all the crayons with a dilemma on my mind: let my more practical left brain convince me to get a small box of knock-off brand crayons to save money or follow my more dominant creative right brain and splurge on the big box of good crayons.  Who knows how long I pondered this when Owen came to my rescue.  "Get the big box!" he said.  And that was that!  Away I went, happily holding my new box of crayons and with further evidence of just how well my husband knows me.

Memory Two: 
When I was maybe eight or nine, a present from my sister Alicia sat under the Christmas tree for me.  On the wrapping paper was a large note, "Fragile!  Handle with Care.  Don't shake!" written in her handwriting.  Being the nosy little pest I was, I would sit with the box nearly every day trying to figure out what on earth my sister would give me that was fragile.  I probably probed her a time or two wondering also.  I remember her telling me to just leave it alone so I didn't break it before I opened it.  I doubt I listened.

Well, Christmas day finally came and I opened up the package to find a BIG box of brand new crayons.  I was slightly confused as I was expecting something delicate and highly breakable only to be holding crayons.  So I asked what all the drama about it being fragile was.  Her reply?  "Well, I know how much you hate broken crayons."  She's still just as thoughtful today.


Memory Three:
A few years ago, Owen had a chemistry class with a female professor.  Every time the students were working on a lab, she would say, "Now boys, be sure to be descriptive.  Use that big box of crayons!"  Ever since then, it's stuck as a phrase at our house.

Now go pull out your crayons and color something!  Hopefully you've got a big box too because I'm not sharing. You might break them, or worse, mix them up!  ;)