I believe every child deserves a special, never-have-to-share toy. House rule said this toy stayed out of sight when friends come around. Jessica chose crayons as her non-share toy, over Stephanie, the doll who shared her skin color and went everywhere she did.

            This might have seemed odd to anyone who didn’t know she owned the special one-hundred-twenty pack with the plastic trays and individual holes for each crayon. Or, that her mother hoarded her own box, although she had the measly sixty-four pack with cardboard holders.

            Stephanie and the crayons survived college and returned home with Jessica. I discovered this the day I came in with a new stack of coloring books and she, her little sister, and I each ran to our rooms to get our crayons. We laughed as we gathered around the dining room table and they teased me for having my own stash.

            “I am not the only adult with crayons,” I argued, picking up the phone to prove that was true . I dialed my neighbor, grinning at the girls when Tracey assured me she had her own crayons. “Bring them over,” I said. “I bought new coloring books.”

            Tracey wrestled an eighteen-gallon storage container through the door and placed it on the floor beside her chair. She pulled off the lid off, revealing every crayon, marker, and colored pencil on the market.

            My younger daughter giggled as Tracey pulled her favorites from the bin and lined them on the table. “I bet those belong to Dustin and Kristin.”

            “Hell no,” Tracey answered. “They aren’t allowed to touch these.” While Tracey looked through the new books, my daughters eyed my sixty-four box of crayons and me with new appreciation.

            My cousin, Dana dropped by a few days later. The girls mentioned our coloring party and she wanted to know why we hadn’t called her.

            “Do you have your own crayons?” I asked. “We share books, but not crayons.”

            Dana rolled her eyes. “Of course I have my own crayons.”

            We scheduled a coloring party with Dana on the following Monday, and invited Tracey. The following week, we put the leaf in the table when one of Jessica’s friends joined us, and we spilled over to the kitchen table the week after that when the friend and the cousin brought extras.

            For months, we had our adult coloring party every Monday evening. I found out most of my friends had their own crayons, and that one had nearly died of embarrassment when her son told his teacher she wouldn’t let him borrow her crayons for his homework.

            One Monday night, a friend called and invited me to play Scrabble. Much as I love Scrabble, I told him I was in the middle of my weekly coloring party but he was welcome to join us, if he had his own box of crayons. He didn’t have crayons, but drove over anyway. We didn’t share.

            Maybe it’s something only women do? I’m curious now to know if any men have their own crayons.