I asked my six-year-old son what he’d be if he were a crayon.
“What do you mean?” he said. “Like the color?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Gold,” he said, “Because gold is awesome. It’s treasure.”
“Nothing. Pencils are better because they have erasers,” he said.
“True,” I said. “But gold is a pretty awesome color for a crayon.”
“And for treasure,” he said.
If I Were a Crayon, I’d Color in The Blank Spots
If I were a crayon, I’d redraw the world. I’d draw friends for each of us when we need them, and a quiet room to sit in for when we need that instead.
I’d draw sunshine in schools and on busses, so that those who feel darkness are flooded with light and growth, and I’d draw kids who would never make fun of others for not pronouncing words the way they’re supposed to sound. I’d erase bullying, and draw a park to go to for when we need to let the anger come and then, I’d draw a safe space for us to free it.
I’d erase all of the supposed tos, and replace them with creativity, acceptance and empathy.
If I were a crayon, I’d color fairness at work, at the grocery store, and in traffic.
I’d fill in the empty places of fairness in birth, in life, and in death.
I’d draw purple and green people among and beside us as a reminder that skin color and ethnicity gives us roots and history but is meaningless beyond that.
I’d make a color for running with glee and give that color to those who cannot run, nor walk, and I’d give it to those of us who have done so but have forgotten finding freedom in it.
If I were a crayon, I’d color all of us to know how wonderful we are.
Without erasers, we’d never dream of being invisible.
PS – If I were a crayon, I’d expect complete forgiveness when a kid uses me to draw on your walls, your couch, and your life. It’s not my fault, after all, that I’m made of wax and that I pretty much have become the pattern on your upholstery.
PPS – Packing tape kinda, sorta takes up crayon marks on couches.
PPPS – I realize this post is super-short, but um, my six-year-old has had ONE DAY of school this week, friends. ONE DAY. As in, they’ve already cancelled school tomorrow because of Storm Jonas, and, because of the same storm, my husband had to work late tonight as they’re planning on leaving early tomorrow. Anyway, because I realized this post is super-short, I asked my husband Robert the question. “What if you were a crayon?”
“Huh?” he said. “I guess I’d be orange.” (totally not what I was expecting because I’d instead expected a rational response, of something like “WTF? What do you mean if I were crayon?” Which just goes to show you that Robert is used to me asking him stupid random questions and would rather get back to whatever he’s doing than further delve into my antics.
Anyway. “Why would you be orange?” I said.
“Because I love Tennessee.” he said, which was enough for me to know what he meant because we’re married and stuff but still – disappointing, yes?
PPPPS – Superstorm Jonas is coming tomorrow and OMG any amount of unexpected snow days is a lot of snow days and do you have wine??? I hope my friends on the east coast have wine.
PPPPPS – Also, I did actually write something real this week, so if you’re feeling like you need more veggies than gummy bears right now, read about why we have to forgive people. Oh! Also? I re-did my About Finding Ninee page this week. So um, even with snow days and holidays, I’m grasping at the “What. I did something anyway” straw.
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. This week’s sentence is “If I were a crayon…”
Your hosts are, me (findingninee.com) as always and the sentence-thinker-upper, Alyssa of Babies, Bloodhounds and Booze, Oh My!