Wow. What a reminder! I probably have about a half-dozen boxes of crayons stashed in a mathom's box in my basement. Crayons in special-edition metal tins. Special-edition metallic crayons in simple cardboard boxes. That sort of thing. I bought them all in a younger life thinking I'd give them to a future kid. That kid is now six.
The crayons look so perfect in those boxes, that I don't think my son will ever see them. I pull them out from time to time. Admire them. Get lost in the smell of the wax. Study the names. Periwinkle? Is that the colour of Periwinkle. And then back they go to be admired another day.
I still remember when I was 8, my dad's car broke down on the highway and my entire cigar box full of crayons melted in the Florida summer heat. A sad day.
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Wow. What a reminder! I probably have about a half-dozen boxes of crayons stashed in a mathom's box in my basement. Crayons in special-edition metal tins. Special-edition metallic crayons in simple cardboard boxes. That sort of thing. I bought them all in a younger life thinking I'd give them to a future kid. That kid is now six.
The crayons look so perfect in those boxes, that I don't think my son will ever see them. I pull them out from time to time. Admire them. Get lost in the smell of the wax. Study the names. Periwinkle? Is that the colour of Periwinkle. And then back they go to be admired another day.
Weird.
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