When I was in grade school (before we started homeschooling), I remember that even as a 6-8 year old, there were fads. Remember pogs? I still don't know what the point of those things were, but if you were cool, then by George, you had to have pogs.
One year I remember that the thing that all the "cool" kids had were these little crayon-melt things. Basically it looked like a bunch of crayons melted together, so when you colored with it it produced a rainbow effect. I have no idea where the kids got these, but I just remember that I wanted one. Badly.
I attempted trading for them, but no one was willing to trade (give up their claim to coolness? I don't think so).
One day a girl I was friends with told me that if I beat her in a race she'd give me one of her crayon-melt things.
Actually it might have been me who suggested racing in the first place, I can't remember. I just know that I thought it was a great idea, because even though I can't bring myself to run anywhere now, I was the fastest runner in my class once upon a time. After all, I won the race on field day, even against the boys! So we lined up at the edge of the basketball court and determined that whoever made it to the end first would win the crayon.
(This really wasn't fair in retrospect, because it was her crayon in the first place and I don't think we agreed upon a prize for her if she won . . . but hey, I was 7, we didn't think the whole thing through . . .)
Someone said "go" and I ran as fast as I could. I flew to the other end of the basketball court, I'm sure in record-breaking time. Once I reached the finish line I slowed myself down and turned around . . . just in time to see my friend running back the other way.
I jogged over to see what she was doing (and to claim my prize). But apparently the rules changed somewhere, and we were really supposed to run to the middle of the court and then back. And she obviously beat me back.
I never did get my crayon melt.
All this to say, I was in Target the other day, and I spotted these:
What? Could those be crayon melts?
My inner grade-school child got all excited, and I had to have them!
So there they are, sitting on my kitchen table. Though I'm a little old now to carry them around in my purse and pull them out when I need to prove to everyone how cool I am.
But Wyatt, on the other hand, is not!
(His facial expressions crack me up!)
(It took a little smooth-talking to convince him they weren't candy . . . but then we had fun playing with them.)
Even though my crayon-melt wish was never granted me, my son will not be deprived!
It gives me a little satisfaction, somehow.