crayon use or abuse

Last week, I sat down to clean and re-pack the crate of emergency “supplies” that live in the van. Sarah wandered by as I emptied some nearly full coloring books and a box of crayons. “Can I have those crayons?” I said yes even though I was surprised that it was Sarah instead of Amy requesting the crayons. Sarah spends most of her free time with a paint brush in her hand, while Amy prefers crayons. Five minutes later, *one of the smoke alarms starting buzzing. Sarah was in her bedroom painting a canvas with melted crayons. I wonder how many times she would have to set off the smoke alarm to encourage Doug to build that screened back porch I’ve been requesting for nearly a decade? I don’t need a screened porch for ME. I need a porch for Sarah to use as an art studio. We also need more crayons.

*When you have five children and a husband who juggles fire, you have multiple smoke alarms. Since only one buzzed, it’s time to change some batteries.

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