I was drawing in the bathtub. It was going great but suddenly I felt hungry. There were no pretzels or crackers in the bathroom so I chewed the orange crayon. It didn't taste good but I couldn't spit it out. So I yelled, "Out, out!" My dad came from his Facebook surfing or whatever and picked the crayon out of my mouth. No biggie.
OUT! OUT! My wife started yelling, "THE BABY!" Sure enough, Emma's mouth was filled with chunks of orange crayon I'd got her to draw in the bathtub. As I pulled the crayon out of her mouth she nipped at me with her teeth. My wife said, "You can't trust the baby." Would you trust a baby? She didn't swallow the crayon.