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The ritual of the post-bath crayons

August 19, 2020

Every night I bathe my kids. (The younger ones, that is. The 13-year-old showers by himself.) This consists of the usual steps: remove the clothes, put him in the tub, fill the tub with water, and so forth. Not a ground-breaking protocol.

But here’s the odd part: every night, after I extricate my not-quite-2-year-old from the tub and start to dry him, he asks for the tray of bath crayons. I hold out the tray, like a waiter offering hors d’oeuvres. Ben carefully selects the orange and blue crayons, and orally confirms his choices. (“Owange! Boo!”) And then, after about 30 seconds of additional drying, he asks to return the crayons to the tray, and does so.

During this time there is no actual usage of the crayons. Ben doesn’t even pretend to draw with them; he just holds them in his hand. And yet, to him, this sequence is delightful. He beams in anticipation of taking the crayons, and he beams in anticipation of putting them back. The ritual itself is the point, somehow. There seems to be a satisfaction and a comfort in knowing what to do next, and in having someone to do it with.

This scene may be poignant for me in part because it reminds me of a challenging-for-me aspect of parenting, namely, enjoying the presence of one’s kids, even if nothing in particular is happening.

When I’m holding a crayon, my mind is quick to ask, “OK, what’s going on here? Are we looking for a certain color, or are we ready to draw some animals, or what?” But what if I could just let the crayon sit in my hand while I feel its weight, admire its features, contemplate its potential?

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