Where did you get that crayon?

Crayons are the bane of my existence.
You would think with my long-time history of art appreciation that I would love them. That I would adore seeing precious masterpieces that my children create. That I would adore the creative nurturing they provide as a first medium for tiny fingers.
Don't get me wrong--I love that my children share my love for all things colorful and crafty. I love seeing the [millions] of Optimus Prime pictures James draws and the accidental letters and lines Riley scribbles out. I love that Poppy can sit quietly for an eternity with the broken waxy pieces she sneaks away from the boys, proud of little marks that come out on the paper.
But I freaking hate crayons right now.

First of all, they reproduce.

Literally.

One minute there's a manageable box of six crayons, wrapped in paper so as not to make huge unsightly marks on whatever they fall or get stepped onto.

Then all of a sudden the kids realize they can rip that obstructive, protective layer off and delight in their "nakey" crayons.

As if life couldn't get any better than naked crayons, they discover the power of breaking them.

Yes, you now have a million crayons! 

Epiphany!!!

I can only imagine they feel like Jesus and the loaves.

Now EVERYBODY can have crayons!! We don't have to fight over who gets blue or who gets orange or who gets stuck with the unwanted pink crayons!

Only they still fight. 

Over whose crayon piece is bigger.

I'm constantly stooping to pick up broken pieces, carefully trying not to smudge it into the damn carpet (inevitable) because my iron-clad law about "crayons stay in the kitchen, on the table, out of reach until supervised" pretty much got crapped on. Just when I think I've picked up all the pieces of what used to be six crayons, I trip over another. Or find them in the couch cushions. Or bedsheets. I should probably change the blog to "wheredidyougetthatexpletivecrayon.com"

I also have a rule about "crayons only go on designated sheets of paper or coloring books"...

This is my fireplace.

It is blue.

It wasn't always blue.

I rest my case.

If I try to hide the crayons, in a bag of course to keep them all in one spot, my squirrel children start hoarding them. James sneaks a few into his lunchbox/shoebox/purse/backpack/whatever he's keeping his toys in for the week. Riley probably buries them into the carpet. 

When you google "how to get friggen crayon out of everything", e-how articles come up with some really great tips. Like: Place a paper grocery sack over the stain and on a low-setting melt all the crayon onto the bag. Then use dry cleaning solution, blot, WD-40, blot, soak your carpet with water, blot, dish detergent, blot, water, blot. Dance in a circle. Blot blot blot blot blot.

Listen e-how, I don't have time to blot the crap out of my carpet. And I don't know who has dry cleaning solution just lying around their house.

So here are my tips for getting crayon out of your house:

Don't buy them.

Don't let anyone else bring them in your house.

Pour lighter fluid on said stain, and set it on fire.

Drink some wine. The stain will look blurrier and less noticeable.

Get rainbow colored carpet installed.

Start coloring it yourself. It'll look less fun to the kids.

And finally, just screw it. You won't be tripping over crayons forever. At least it's only crayon wax you're scrubbing and not bodily fluids. 

Unless, like me, you're also cleaning those up too.