Every age has its rite of passage, that door an individual must step through to show the advancing years. We know the obvious ones: crawling, walking, speaking, the privilege to vote, a driver’s license, bar and bat mitvas, baptisms. But do we know the lesser known, though equally valid rites of passage? Like running into the street, or screaming at your mother, or this one.

Melanie walked into the kitchen and saw Olivia writing on the walls with a pastel oil crayon. She screamed, “NO!!!” and Olivia jumped a mile. I remember when I was a kid, my sister Kittie drew a picture of what came to be known as the Mama Ghost. A crayon drawing on the closet door of my bedroom that stayed there for probably 15 years before my parents renovated that room and removed the door. I guess we’re a little luckier these days. Crayons are a little less permanent today. These two pictures were taken about 10 minutes later.

Olivia’s third birthday is next Tuesday the 16th.

The next rite of passage is where she tries to cut her own hair. We’ll make sure to hide the scissors.