One of my core memories as a kid was when I watched the Mr. Rogers' episode about how crayons were made[0]. I came home after my first week of 1st grade, Grandm

One of my core memories as a kid was when I watched the Mr. Rogers' episode about how crayons were made[0]. I came home after my first week of 1st grade, Grandma making dinner in the kitchen, my Mom getting ready for work. On the days it rained, which were many in the PNW, I would spend my afternoons coloring and watching reruns of Mr. Rogers'. My Grandma had begun recording episodes of Mr. Rogers' to VHS when I was barely even a year old for me to watch when I was older. Still with the fresh smell of crayon and marker on my hands from school, I grabbed my blue tin cookie can full of crayons from my room, stopping by the gigantic office desk where our brand new Hewlett Packard computer and Deskjet 500 printer lived. Barely tall enough to reach the front paper hopper, I snagged a sheet of paper, sandwiching it between my index and middle fingers. I popped in the VHS, seated in front of our Magnavox with crayon tin and paper in hand. The episode began and a core memory was made. That distinct crayon smell in combination with that episode will always stay with me. I left software to become a grade school teacher last year and I have Mr. Rogers' and a shortlist of male teachers to thank for planting the seed of curiosity and play some decades ago. 0. https://youtu.be/MWAhnVYUPZo?si=kdg7-iY0Wcd8IRne https://youtu.be/MWAhnVYUPZo?si=kdg7-iY0Wcd8IRne