Andy is artsy.

His finger paintings resemble Picasso's early work.

He smiles as he cuts out pieces of newspaper to glue together.

Even his play-dough sculptures are worthy of praise.

I like to take credit for the masterpieces he creates. After all, this three-year-old self-learned that he loved expressing his ideas through art with coloring. He would selectively choose me from my box and trace the outside of each stenciled Disney character. This way, he was sure to never color outside of the lines.

As Andy colored more and more each day, I found myself growing smaller and smaller. I took pride in knowing he needed me! I liked being chosen first, and the others were always envious.

But lately, I've noticed that I'm one of the tallest among everyone. I don't get picked first anymore, if at all, because Andy has realized I'm safe. He's old enough now not to need my guidance.

Andy likes coloring outside of the lines now. He's noticed it attracts more attention from his parents.

They'll say things like, "Is that the best use of your time?" and "Why don't you stay inside of the lines like before?"

I side with his parents, but I also sort of understand Andy's behavior, although I miss being needed.

He's old enough now to breathe life into a rainforest and make a waterfall splash off of a page. It's becoming habitual now — I am never included. But it's not my fault that leaves are green and water is blue!

Because when you color with me, no one notices. The page is already white.

And so I remain the tallest crayon in the box.