Crayons and Extreme Heat don't mix...



We lived in Louisville, KY and it was a very small house. Although there was a floor furnace (I don't know if it was heating oil or natural gas) my parents used a pot-bellied stove to heat the house because except for the cost of gathering wood-the heat was free.

We were supposed to be taking a nap. I fell asleep first. That usually translates to I would be the first to wake up as well. Everyone else was asleep. I went to my red rocker by the pot-bellied stove and rocked for a while. I loved that rocker and I loved the sensation of rocking.

After a while I went looking for the crayons. I knew better than to draw on the walls so I took a crayon and started drawing on the stove.

The crayon spread on so smooth and creamy. Then it would start to bubble, change color, darken, go black and even smoke a little and definitely started to stink. I tried several colors. They all eventually turned black.

After awhile the heat began to get to me and made me sleepy again. I went back to bed and fell asleep.

When mom woke up due to the smell-Bob was also up. Guess who got blamed for it. She nor he ever knew. Until...

I was about 36 years old when Bob came to live with us for a few months. He had two boys (Bobby and Robert). Like any family, there are quiet times when reminiscing is looked forward to and enjoyed. One evening we were doing just that when I told my pot-bellied crayon story.

It was humorous to see Bob (nearly 40 years old) have the look of stunned surprise as the realization sunk in. Then he said, "You! It was you!"

Comments

Sharon said…
Jacob and I got a good chuckle out of this one. hehe
September 8, 2008 at 4:40 PM
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