Yesterday, Anna stationed herself on the front porch with her big bin of crayons and several coloring pages. While Kurt worked on the front lawn (and I hid inside with the A/C preventing late-pregnancy heat sickness), she doodled away at her various masterpieces.
Then Silvia woke up, the girls discovered Daddy was messing with all the sprinkler heads and the coloring was forgotten in the resulting water play. When Anna came back to her crayons about 6 hours later, looking to draw some American flags for the 4th of July, she discovered a bin of goo with little bits of crayon wrappers stuck throughout. The colors had all melted together in the hot afternoon sun.
At first, devastation. Oh, no! My crayons! My vehicle to the world of art and self-expression! Melted, lost, destroyed! And then... hmmm. That melty puddle right there doesn't look like a crayon.
That part looks like chocolate!
Yes, my 5-year-old daughter, for all her brains and panache, took a big scoop of melted brown crayon on her finger and popped it in her mouth. Sweet chocolately goodness it was NOT.
She came inside, carrying the bin, making "ew, gross" faces and dragging her tongue across her sleeve. She looked up at me with a slight expression of betrayal, as if I had somehow tricked her into eating colored wax. Then she ran upstairs to brush her teeth... for about 20 minutes.
Later that night, as the girls gobbled up fresh, juicy cherries for dessert, Anna stated, "My crayons all melted today and I tasted one and chocolate crayons are NOT GOOD. Cherries are way better!".
Lesson learned: Everything in moderation... and context. If it's surrounded by inedibles, don't risk it!
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