The Dancer is still sick.Can you tell? (There should be a font just for sarcasm. Let's call it Smart Alica)
But she is also bored because she is a child and she must jump from miraculous recovery to hideous relapse every two hours. During miraculous recovery she is whining from boredom and not getting to go anywhere.
During hideous relapse she is whining about being sick.
Lots of whine today. I'm practically drunk with it.
So I decided to engage in the nice, quiet activity of coloring to pass the time.
So - How to color with crayons --- Tapper Style:
For some reason today I couldn't shake the memory of my kindergarten that always smelled deliciously of melted crayons. My favorite spot in the room was an easel with a vat of hot, welted wax (Can you imagine the lawsuits today?) and a roll of paper just begging for a masterpiece.
So I looked at our crayons and thought, "Why not?"
I think most of the world's problems likely started with the question, "Why not?"
But I digress.
We sliced the paper off the crayons with a razor blade (Thanks for the tip, Crafter) and can I make a quick side trip and talk about that?
I went to the Artist's office and said, "I need a razor blade."
Without pausing his work he said, "I have a box cutter in the tool room."
Now, shouldn't he have at least asked me if I was having a bad day? Because a razor blade is not a common request around here. When I started laughing and pointed that out he said, "Well, don't make a mess." Such is the love that we have. You crack me up, Artist.
So I de-papered the crayons, broke the crayons, loaded up a mini muffin tin and melted the crayons in the oven.
It smells really good. Like Mrs. Cushman's class sans the guinea pig.
Then we decimated our stash of q-tips and painted.We had to throw the wax back in the oven every five minutes to keep it liquid, because I do not have a hot plate. The cowgirl loved how much more vibrant the liquid crayon looked compared to a room temp crayon.
So next time you get the notion to do a simple activity like coloring, why not heat everything to three hundred degrees, risk a few scalds and make a massive mess? When it's harder and messier than God ever intended, you'll know you're doing it Tapper Style.
And P.S. If the next time I give you a mini muffin it tastes like a crayon - sorry 'bout that.