Coloring Inside the Lines
Image courtesy of historyofpencils.com I liked my hippos purple. I grabbed a crayon from the aluminum tin on the kitchen table that had been dubbed “crayon heaven.” This purple was too dark; it was too blue. I dug through the wax rainbow in front of me until I pulled out the perfect one: Purple Flurp. I shoved a handful of Cheerios in my mouth as I began to add color to the circus hippo in my new coloring book. I had nearly filled in every inch of the smiling hippo’s body when I heard someone come up behind me. “Good morning! Looks like your hippo spilled some of his colors on the floor,” Mom teased as she put Kate in the high chair. I examined the masterpiece in front of me and noticed that I had gone outside the lines— right by the hippo’s giant toe nail. My small heart fell as I realized I had made a mistake. I felt my cheeks turn a brighter shade of red than the Razzmatazz crayon on the table. “I can fix it,” I replied, scrambling to find a white crayon. The white ones w