The Colorful World of Crayola Crayons

Crayons, crayons, crayons.
Crayons over here, crayons over there.
Crayons in the day
Crayons in the night.
Oh, when did crayons become such a fight!
Everywhere I look there is one peaking out
Under the bed and under the couch.
Just when I think the crayons are no more
In comes some more like they are walking through the door.
Crayons, crayons everywhere!



Okay, so I am not a poet. ;o) But seriously, I have had quite a time with those lovely little things called crayons.

A few days ago I gathered all of the kid's clothes to do their laundry. (Can you already tell where this is going?) I have always washed their clothes separate from mine and Phil's because it is easier to sort them that way. Anyway, I washed and dried the first load. As I was taking them out of the dryer to fold I noticed the first item of clothing. It was a pair of Andrew's pants and they had some lovely blue green streaks all over them. I examined them closer only to discover that it was crayon. I turned the pair of pants over to discover more streaks up and down the legs. My mind was going a million miles an hour. Where did the crayon come from? Which kid did it? Will it be on all the clothes? What am I going to do if it is on all the clothes? At this point and time my heart was beginning to hammer in my chest. I slowly reached into the dryer and began to pull out another item of clothing. Yep. Crayoned. And another. Yep, that one too. EVERY SINGLE ITEM OF CLOTHING IN THAT DRYER HAD SEAGREEN CRAYON MELTED ON IT! I was livid.

The kids were in bed for the night, so that was good. ;o) Poor Phil came downstairs looking for me. He found a mad woman flinging toddler clothes all over the laundry room floor. I looked up, saw him and said, "Look at what your monsters did to all of their clothes! Ruined! Millions of dollars worth of kid's clothes!" (Not really, but it sure sounded better to say it that way.) He just stood there stunned for a few minutes. When he "came to" he turned around and went right back upstairs. Good man. He knew there was no point in saying anything. I probably had smoke coming out of my ears.

It took me awhile to calm down. Scrubbing a whole load of clothes with stain out can be VERY therapeutic. Once they were all treated, I threw them in the washer to be washed again and went upstairs to go to bed. Then the thought hit me. GET RID OF ALL THE CRAYONS! So instead of going to bed, I ransacked the house for all of those wonderful colors. I had decided, that if the kids wanted to color they will have to ask first. Then they will be allowed only a few crayons and they will have to stay buckled into their booster seats at the table. Satisfied with my new plan, I went to bed.

The next morning I was pleased to find out that most of the clothes came completely clean. There were a few items of clothing that just wouldn't come clean. I spent the morning calling my mom, my mother in-law, surfing the internet, and asking my SCS friends for ideas. By noon every item of clothing was clean and I am now an expert at crayon stain removal.

But would the crayon madness end there??? Nope! Phil sent Carole to her room that day for a time out because she was being disrespectful. When I went in to get her I had discovered that a crayon magically reappeared. She had colored her door, her walls, her window, her toy kitchen, just about anything that had a smooth surface in her bedroom. It was all the same color, meaning it was just one crayon. Apparently one crayon escaped my grasp. I made her scrub her things clean with Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser. She thought it was fun. I thought this incident was isolated and I for sure had all the crayons now.

Boy was I ever wrong. These kids must have had a secret stash of them somewhere! Yesterday morning I went down the basement to get something and I discovered the playroom floor and been scribbled on. I figured it was Carole due to her artwork in her bedroom the day before. I didn't think much of it because I was going to make her clean it up. She likes scrubbing things anyway. Before I came upstairs, Andrew came down looking for me. I asked him if Carole colored the floor. He hung his head and said no. He then looked up at me with his big, sad brown eyes and said, "I did it, Mom." I have to hand it to him. He finally told the truth! I couldn't get mad at him because I knew how hard it must have been for him to admit that he had done it. Normally he pins EVERYTHING on Carole. I calmly told him he had to clean it all up. I brought down a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and told him to get to work. He scrubbed for nearly an hour and was only halfway done. I snuck downstairs to get him for lunch and this is what I heard.

*scrub, scrub, sob*
I can't do this.
*scrub*
I need help.
*scrub, scrub, sob, sob*
Why did I do this?
*scrub, scrub*
What was I thinking?
*scrub, scrub, sob, sob*

I then poked my head around the corner and told him to go get washed for lunch. He came running with tears streaming down his face. "Mommy, I am so sorry for coloring the floor. I forgot crayons go on paper. I'll never do it again." Break my heart!!! I am sure he will never do it again. I think he learned his lesson the hard way.

With only half of the floor scrubbed, Mr. Clean bit the dust. I told him that he would have to wait to finish the rest until we got more Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. I made it clear that his work was not done. So today I made him go with me to town to buy more cleaner pads. We came home and he went right to work. He was in good spirits and his sister even joined in on the fun. After all she loves to scrub! And no, the floor is still not clean. He will be made to work at it a little everyday. ;o)






And what did Mommy learn from all of this??

1. Check the pockets of EVERYONE'S clothes before washing them. Not just Phil's. ;o)
2. I will never have ALL of the crayons in my grasp, but I sure aim to try!
3. Kids sure are a lot of fun when you aren't mad at them. LOL!