Author’s note: I wrote this last night while I was serving on the back of the paper I use to take orders. It’s really short and mostly just for fun. Thank you for reading!!

“BA BA!” I shouted. But mother wouldn’t listen. I shouted at father. Also, neglecting me. How could they not see the beautiful girl sitting high atop her chair three tables down from me? I threw my red crayon in her direction. Maybe she’d hear the noise and turn to me so I could just have a moment with her. But, I do not yet have the strength of my father and the crayon barely rolled past my mother. I stared at it as if my world was falling apart.

                “Here you go sweetie.” Said the waitress as she handed me back my red crayon from the floor. YES!! MORE AMMO!! I SHALL TRY A NEW TACTIC! I threw the crayon at mother. It clanked against her plate of eggs and sausage. “What is it honey?” She asked. Mother knew. Mother always knew when I was trying to tell her something. Communicating it, however, was a different story. So far, we’d developed a satisfactory way of conversing. Angry cries meant I was hungry. Sad cries meant I needed my diaper changed and when I smiled, it meant that I wanted her to hold me close. But I had yet to come up with a cry that meant: the girl of my dreams is three tables down. Become friends with the parents so we can organize play dates! I sighed. My vocabulary wasn’t sophisticated enough for love. Mother leaned in and kissed me on the nose; unaware of my internal struggle.

                I was going to lose her. I knew it. I stared down at my mashed potatoes, ready to bury my head in them, when I heard the sound of something small falling to the ground to my right. I turned.

                A green crayon was rolling towards me. Almost two tables away. I looked up at the girl I’d been trying to gain the attention of; her big brown eyes were staring straight at me. She smiled. I smiled back. I went to wave with my left hand and realized I had one blue crayon left. I threw it at her. It rolled past my table again. We watched it as it came to a stop. Miles from her and her green crayon. But we smiled at each other. Then the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, was picked up by her father and carried out of the restaurant.