Dad bought a giant, beautiful world map. It was a masterpiece, a vibrant explosion of color… mostly beige. It was an “uncolored” world map, you see, designed for little Timmy to color in. Timmy, however, was more interested in using the crayons as weapons, building elaborate crayon fortresses, and occasionally using the map as a highly inaccurate dartboard.
“Timmy,” Dad said, his voice laced with a mixture of hope and dread, “let’s color in Australia. Nice and sunny yellow, eh?”
Timmy, mid-crayon sword fight with a particularly sturdy purple crayon, grunted noncommittally.
Dad patiently showed Timmy how to color within the lines (sort of). Timmy, inspired, decided Australia deserved a vibrant, psychedelic makeover. It ended up a swirling vortex of orange, green, and a suspicious amount of brown.
Next came Africa. Dad suggested a sensible beige for the Sahara. Timmy, however, decided it needed a more exciting shade – bright, florescent pink. He then proceeded to “decorate” the Serengeti with a menagerie of purple giraffes and lime green lions. The Amazon rainforest became a terrifying expanse of sparkly glitter, thanks to Timmy’s sudden fascination with his sister’s craft supplies.
By the time Timmy had finished “decorating” the world map, it looked like a Jackson Pollock painting had gone on an extended holiday to a particularly chaotic zoo. Antarctica? A majestic swirl of bright blue… and what appeared to be a surprisingly accurate self-portrait done in bright red crayon.
Dad looked at the masterpiece – or rather, the master-crayon-destruction. He sighed. “Well, Timmy,” he said, trying to maintain a positive tone, “at least we know where *not* to go on vacation.” Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he added, “Besides, this map’s already more exciting than my actual passport!”
