written April 12, 2012
It is Monday, and time for art class. Miss Monroe holds up a picture of a house, with a brown roof, orange sides, and a yellow garage.
“Today you will draw a picture of your house for your grandparents. Get out your crayons, and don’t forget that grandparents love bright colors!”
James and I smile at each other. No pink today!
On Tuesday, when art class comes, I start to worry again. I didn’t accidentally lose my pink crayon yet. I open my box and try to hide it. My other friend Sam laughed yesterday when he saw pink in my box. I guess he already accidentally lost his.
This time, Miss Monroe holds up a picture of a truck, with big black tires, dark blue doors, and a nice green bed.
“Today you will draw a picture for your daddy. Get out your crayons, and don’t forget that daddies love boy colors!”
I look at Sam and he shrugs at me. No pink today!
It is Wednesday, and art class is here again. I am not too worried today. On Monday, we used yellow, orange, and brown. On Tuesday, we used blue, green, and black. Today we will probably draw a rainbow or something and use all six colors together.
Miss Monroe holds up a picture of a big flower, all colored in girly pink.
“Today you will draw a pretty picture for your mommy. Get out your crayons, and don’t forget that mommies love pink!”
I peek at James. He doesn’t look so good. I bet he wishes he hadn’t thrown his pink crayon in the trash. I glance at Sam. He’s not laughing now. He’s probably trying to remember where he accidentally lost his pink crayon. I open my box. There is my pink, right in front.
Miss Monroe walks by my desk and sees my pink. She looks at James’ box and Sam’s box. They don’t have pink crayons.
“Hm,” she says, and she walks to the front of the classroom.
I do not look at James or Sam. I just pull out my pink and cover my entire page with lots of pink flowers.
Halfway through art class, I look at James’ paper. He drew two huge flowers, a blue one and a brown one. Arrows point to his flowers, with the word “PINK” written between them. I look at Sam’s paper. He colored a bunch of flowers. Most of them are green, and he has some black ones scattered here and there. He sighs and sticks his tongue out at his paper.
James raises his hand. “Miss Monroe? May I please have a new paper? And may I please borrow your pink?”
Sam raises his hand also. “Me too, Miss Monroe? I need a pink, too.”
Up goes my hand. “They can borrow my pink; it broke in half a few minutes ago, and I think I drew a hundred pink flowers already. I just need it back when they’re finished. You never know when I might need to draw flowers for my mom.”
Miss Monroe hands James and Sam clean papers. They both get right to work, coloring as many pink flowers as they can.
It’s true, boys don’t like pink, but mommies sure do, so I guess I won’t accidentally lose my pink crayon. Not yet, anyway.