This children's book by Drew Dawalt, illustrated by Oliver Jeffers, follows Duncan as he reunites with his lost, damaged, and neglected crayons who have been separated from him through various misadventures. Each crayon shares its unique story of being forgotten, broken, or mistreated, highlighting themes of neglect, friendship, and the importance of caring for one's belongings. The story teaches children about responsibility and the consequences of neglecting objects that have become part of our lives.
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The Day the Crayons Came Home By Drew Dawalt Illustrated by Oliver JeffersAdded:
The Day the Crayons Came Home by Drew Dewalt, illustrated by Oliver Jeffers.
One day, Duncan and his crayons were happily coloring together when a strange stack of postcards arrived for him in the mail.
Dear Duncan, not sure if you remember me, my name is Maroon Crayon. You only colored with me once to draw a scab, but whatever. Anyway, you lost me two years ago in the couch. Then your dad sat on me and broke me in half. I never would have survived had Paperclip not nurse me back to health. I'm finally better. So come get me. And can Paperclip come, too? He's really holding me together.
Sincerely, your marooned crayon. Maroon crayon.
Dear Duncan, no one likes peas. No one even likes the color P green. So, I'm changing my name and running away to see the world. Sincerely, Estabbon the Magnificent, the crayon formerly known as P Green.
Hi, Duncan. It's me, Neon Red Crayon.
Remember that great vacation we had with your family? Remember how we laughed when we drew a picture of your dad's sunburn? remember dropping me by the hotel pool when you left? Clearly, you do not because I'm still here. How could you miss me? Anyway, after 8 months waiting for you to come get me, I guess I'm walking back. Your left behind friend, neon red crayon.
Duncan, it's us, yellow and orange. We know we used to argue over which of us was the color of the sun, but guess what? Neither of us wants to be the color of the sun anymore. Not since we were left outside and the sun melted us together. You know the real color of the sun? Hot. That's what. We're sorry for arguing. You can make green the sun for all we care. Just bring us home. Your not so sunny friends. Yellow and orange.
Hey Duncan. I'm sure you don't recognize me after the horrors I've been through.
I think I was tan crayon or maybe burnt sienna. I don't know. I can't tell anymore. Have you ever been eaten by a dog and puked up on the living room rug?
Because I have. I have been eaten by a dog and puked up on the rug, Duncan. And it's not pretty. Not pretty at all. I'm more carpet fuzz than crayon now. Can you please bring me back? Your undigestible friend. tan or possibly burnt sienna crayon.
Dear Duncan, um could you please open the front door? I still need to see the world. Sincerely, Estabbon the Magnificent.
Hey, Duncan. Remember last Halloween we told your little brother there was a ghost under the basement stairs? Then we drew that scary stuff on the wall. Sure was funny when he ran screaming, right?
But it wasn't so funny when you forgot to take me out of the basement. Please come get me. I'm kind of terribly horrified. Your scared friend glow-in-the-dark crayon.
Dear Duncan, looks like I'm almost home.
Been through China, Canada, and France.
I think just crossing New Jersey by camel now. New Jersey has giant pyramids, right? See you soon. Neon red crayon. P.S. Next stop, the North Pole, I think.
Duncan, does page eight of Pirate Island ring a bell? Kind of a big payday for Captain Greenbeard there, don't you think? And no bronze or silver in that pile, huh? I told you it'd make me blunt if you colored each coin individually.
But would you listen? No. I also told you those stupid crayon sharpeners never work. Did you listen to that? Also, no.
Now I can't color anything at all. Your pointless friend, gold crayon.
I had to write it for him. This is not fun for me either, you know.
Dear Duncan, I see in the world. It's rainy. I'm coming back. Estabon the magnificent.
Hi Duncan. You're probably wondering why my head is stuck to your sock. A question I ask myself every day. Well, it's because last week you left me in your pocket and I ended up in the dryer.
I landed on your sock and now he's stuck to my head. Can you please come get me?
Also, why does everything you wear still smell after it's washed? Your stinky socky stucky on head, buddy. Turquoise cran. P.S. Sock says hi.
>> Tell him I said hi.
Dear Mr. Duncan, I know I'm not your crayon. I know I belong to your baby brother, but I can't take him anymore.
In the last week alone, he's bitten the top of my head, put me in the cat's nose, drawn on the wall, and tried to color garbage with me. The worst part is he is a terrible artist. I can't tell what his drawings are. Donkeys, monkeys, donkey, monkeys. Picasso said, "Every child is an artist, but I don't know. I don't think he met your brother. Please rescue me. Your desperate friend, big chunky toddler crayon."
Duncan, greetings from the Amazon rainforest. Making a great time. I think I'm almost home. Neon red crayon.
Hello, Duncan. It's me, Brown Crayon.
You know exactly why I ran away, buddy.
Everyone thinks I get all the great coloring jobs. Candy bars, puppies, ponies. Lucky me, right? Bet they don't know what else you used me to color, do they? I didn't think so. The rest of that drawing was great, but did it really need that final brown scribble?
I'll come back, but please, let's stick to candy bars, okay? your very embarrassed friend, Bran Crayon.
Duncan was sad to learn of all the crayons he'd lost, forgotten, broken, or neglected over the years. So, he ran around gathering them up. But Duncan's crayons were all so damaged and differently shaped than they used to be that they no longer fit in the crayon box. So, Duncan had an idea.
He built a place where each crayon would always feel at home.
There's no dogs down there, are there?
>> Nope. No turkeys either.
Oh, you flattered me. But it's not real chocolate.
Let's have a party.
This one is from my blue period, but it's not really blue. More like lilac.
I think that door is for us.
Ah, there you are. I could use a haircut.
Hope there isn't a metal detector.
No, I think everyone is welcome.
Looks good, lads.
Who are you wearing? Oh, I think he goes by Ted. I'm Ted.
Make sure it's straight.
And then in Cleveland, I got to hike the Great Wall of China.
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