“Chewing Crayons” gets its name from the culinary preferences of my beloved boy, Chatterbox Toddler.
Chatterbox Toddler eats crayons. He knows it’s a problem. He’s trying to quit. He’s down to a pack a day.
He whines incessantly if he doesn’t get his fix. This hasn’t been normal behavior. I blame his molars.
The poor kid’s mouth leaks like a faucet and I catch him shoving all sorts of things in there to try and relieve the pressure. Pencils, snowshoes, matchbox cars, crayons, tank engines, mountain goats, vacuum hoses, iPhones, keys and puzzle pieces. Everything except actual food, which he wants nothing to do with.
He leaves a rainbow trail of masticated colored wax wherever he goes and I’m stuck cleaning multi-colored spit chunks off the carpet. It’s a good thing he’s cute, because it’s easier to extend mercy to a cute kid after they’ve just puked up blue crayon all over the sofa. Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat.