It had been a long ride that day. Peter, Helen, Brian, Mart and Trixie had loaded their car with suitcases, car seats, toys and snacks and had driven to visit Uncle Andrew in the Ozarks. Trixie was sure they had driven a million miles, but Mart had said no. When they arrived at Uncle Andrew’s, it was late. After a quick dinner, the three youngsters were washed up and put into bed.

“You’ll be sleeping in this room,” Uncle Andrew said as he led the three kids into a cozy bedroom he had prepared for them. “Brian, you can sleep on this cot and Trixie and Mart can share the bed.”

“Why does Brian get the cot?” whined Mart.

“Because he is the oldest and is bigger. Since Trixie and Mart are smaller, they will be fine sharing the bed.”

Trixie looked doubtfully at the bed. “I don’t know, Uncle Andrew. Mart always takes more than he’s s’posed to.”

“I do not,” said Mart.

Andrew looked at his very tired niece and nephews. He noticed that Brian had climbed into the cot and was settling himself in the clean sheets. “Come on you two, let’s get you into bed.” Andrew pulled back the covers. Trixie and Mart scrambled in and Uncle Andrew bade them good night. As soon as the door closed, Trixie and Mart began arguing over who had more space.

“You’re on my side,” Mart pointed out.

“Am not!” Trixie replied hotly.

“I wish I had Harold’s purple crayon. I would draw a big line down the bed and then you would have to stay on your side,” said Mart.

“That’s a good idea,” agreed Trixie as she quickly got out of bed and ran to her bag where she rummaged through her stash of toys. “Look,” she held up a fat purple crayon.

“Bring it here,” ordered Mart.

Trixie ran across the room and climbed back into the bed. She and Mart threw back the sheets, removed the pillows and debated where the middle of the bed was located. Mart was poised with the crayon on the sheet, when it was suddenly snatched out of his hands. “Hey,” cried Mart as he turned to face his brother.

“Don’t you two ever think?” Brian whispered as he shook his head at the two. “You can’t go around drawing lines on other people’s sheets. Now go to sleep.”

Brian returned to his cot. Trixie and Mart stuck their tongues out at their responsible brother, then lay down on the bed. They kicked at each other a bit until fatigue overtook them and they fell sound asleep.

The next morning, Brian handed Moms the box of crayons. " I think you should keep these until we get home.” Puzzled, Helen looked down and saw the ragged box of fat crayons that Brian had given her.

I’m not even going to ask, Helen thought