I knew it was baloney when people said things like, “Oh, kids don’t really get crayons till they’re two.” Whatever. I ordered a set of the cutest kitty-egg-shaped crayons, and, though spendy, they’re amazeballs.

Last week our beloved babysitter taped paper to the table, watched Owen look disgusted when he put a crayon in his mouth, put his hand to the paper to show him what it’s all about, and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch where she could still see him. That was that, she told me. She left four crayons on the table and he switched colours on his own.

I so wish I’d been there to see it. But don’t you know I taped some more paper to the table that very evening…