‹ Prequel: Alphabet Soup.
Joseph and the Purple Crayon.
barney.
Joe dropped two coloring books in front of the younger girl and sat beside her. With a box of crayons and a small bag slung behind his back, he smiled at the coloring books, amused by his decision.
But the girl grabbed one and set it in front of her face. She ran her eyes over the glossy front page. “Barney, Joe,” she said looking at him, “are you serious?”
He nodded, pushing the glasses he had at the top of his nose. “It’s the exact same thing I had when I was in Kindergarten.”
“Maybe you’re still in Kindergarten, too.”
Joe ignored her and snatched a pencil from his bag to scribble his name at the first page of the book. Inside his bag were a number of notebooks and folders and all of the first-day-of-Kindergarten shenanigans. She rolled her eyes.
“Can I borrow your crayons?” she asked with the nicest voice she could muster at the moment. She had to bite her tongue to keep her from saying something offending. Joe noticed this. “I forgot mine in my room.”
He remembered the “sharing is caring” speech his mother gave him several years ago. With that, he firmly said, “No.”
And so Joe began coloring, careful not to color outside the lines. He also remembered that Kevin told him whoever colored outside the lines would get kicked out of Kindergarten.
“Come on,” the girl argued, pushing Joe’s shoulder.
“No,” he repeated, glaring. “We’re playing School, you can’t not go to school without your stupid crayons.”
She frowned and stared at the black-and-white page in front of her. Joe smiled and went back to his coloring. After he used the green crayon, he set it down and looked through his box, looking for the purple crayon, only to find out it was in the hands of somebody else.
“That’s mine,” he said, sticking his hand out expectantly.
“Purple’s a girls color,” she stated, not stopping to look at him.
“Barney’s purple,” he thought out loud.
“Then Barney’s a girl.”
Joe gasped, taking offense for the purple dinosaur. “You already stole my purple crayon. You don’t have to call Barney a girl,” he cried, snatching the stick of wax from the girl’s hands, making sure to drag it everywhere across the page, then putting it back in his box with a huff.
Then he glared and pointed at the girl’s coloring book. “There, now you’re getting kicked out of Kindergarten for coloring out of the lines.”
“What?” she said, glaring at him, too. “I didn’t even do that. You did, you’re the one getting kicked out!”
“But it’s your coloring book.”
“I don’t care,” she shouted, throwing the coloring book purposely to the side of Joe’s face so it wouldn’t hit him.
“But you’re supposed to care,” he whined, stomping his feet on the floor twice. “You’re in Kindergarten for Pete’s sake.”
But the girl grabbed one and set it in front of her face. She ran her eyes over the glossy front page. “Barney, Joe,” she said looking at him, “are you serious?”
He nodded, pushing the glasses he had at the top of his nose. “It’s the exact same thing I had when I was in Kindergarten.”
“Maybe you’re still in Kindergarten, too.”
Joe ignored her and snatched a pencil from his bag to scribble his name at the first page of the book. Inside his bag were a number of notebooks and folders and all of the first-day-of-Kindergarten shenanigans. She rolled her eyes.
“Can I borrow your crayons?” she asked with the nicest voice she could muster at the moment. She had to bite her tongue to keep her from saying something offending. Joe noticed this. “I forgot mine in my room.”
He remembered the “sharing is caring” speech his mother gave him several years ago. With that, he firmly said, “No.”
And so Joe began coloring, careful not to color outside the lines. He also remembered that Kevin told him whoever colored outside the lines would get kicked out of Kindergarten.
“Come on,” the girl argued, pushing Joe’s shoulder.
“No,” he repeated, glaring. “We’re playing School, you can’t not go to school without your stupid crayons.”
She frowned and stared at the black-and-white page in front of her. Joe smiled and went back to his coloring. After he used the green crayon, he set it down and looked through his box, looking for the purple crayon, only to find out it was in the hands of somebody else.
“That’s mine,” he said, sticking his hand out expectantly.
“Purple’s a girls color,” she stated, not stopping to look at him.
“Barney’s purple,” he thought out loud.
“Then Barney’s a girl.”
Joe gasped, taking offense for the purple dinosaur. “You already stole my purple crayon. You don’t have to call Barney a girl,” he cried, snatching the stick of wax from the girl’s hands, making sure to drag it everywhere across the page, then putting it back in his box with a huff.
Then he glared and pointed at the girl’s coloring book. “There, now you’re getting kicked out of Kindergarten for coloring out of the lines.”
“What?” she said, glaring at him, too. “I didn’t even do that. You did, you’re the one getting kicked out!”
“But it’s your coloring book.”
“I don’t care,” she shouted, throwing the coloring book purposely to the side of Joe’s face so it wouldn’t hit him.
“But you’re supposed to care,” he whined, stomping his feet on the floor twice. “You’re in Kindergarten for Pete’s sake.”