when i refused to share

This morning, the niece of one of my friends was at work, and she had a colouring book. So I sat down at coloured with her for a while, and I had a weird sort of flashback memory of a colouring book I’d had in 1st grade.

Before I’d even ever started to school, I remember dad colouring a picture in a colouring book of mine and it looks so nice… my dad’s an artist so he had done all the little things that an artist would do, colouring darker for shadows, lighter for highlights.. and I remember being so astounded. So from that day forth I strove to colour like he did.

Couple of years later – first grade. I remember it was first grade, because I remember which teacher it was – Mrs Sim’s class. I had a Muppet Babies colouring book, I had taken great care to colour every page perfectly, beautifully. I was SO proud of it. It was still in progress – I still had a few more pages to go. One day I took it with me to school, to colour during our free time, and this boy in my class, wanted to colour in it. And I knew he’d mess it all up. I’d done it all so perfectly, just to have this one kid come along and scribble in it. I was so angry, and torn, because he was my friend, and I knew I’d get in trouble if I didn’t SHARE.

I actually don’t even remember what happened. I don’t think he coloured in it. All I remember is how proud I was of my Muppet Babies colouring book, and how angry I was that he wanted to colour in it.

Pointless story, but I had forgotten about that and I was surprised to remember it today.