In the heart of the kingdom, where the towers tickled the clouds and the moat smelled of fresh-baked cookies (oh, how the ducks loved that!), stood the grandest, sparkliest royal castle you ever did see. Clink! went the golden gates as they swung open for Olivia, a little girl with curls as bouncy as springs and a giggle that sounded like tiny bells. Ting-ting-ting!

Olivia had a very important mission today. The king, whose beard was as fluffy as a sheep’s backside, had given her a special task: to color a drawing of the royal garden. "But remember," he said, wiggling his bushy eyebrows, "you must stay inside the lines! No squiggles, no blobs, no oopsies!" Olivia nodded so hard her curls bounced like popcorn. Pop-pop-pop!

The drawing was as big as a picnic blanket and covered in twisty vines, round flowers, and a very grumpy-looking frog wearing a tiny crown. Olivia’s crayons sat in a shiny silver bucket, smelling of wax and sunshine. She picked up the green one—squeak!—and took a deep breath. The paper felt as smooth as a puddle of milk under her fingers.

But oh dear! Olivia’s hand wobbled like jelly on a plate. Scribble-scratch! The green crayon shot out of the lines and onto the frog’s crown. "Oh no!" Olivia gasped. The frog now looked like he’d been caught in a rainstorm of slime. She tried again with the blue crayon—whoosh!—and suddenly, the sky had a big, wobbly smile. The king would not be happy.

Just then, a tiny mouse named Pip scurried into the room, his whiskers twitching at the smell of cheese (which, of course, was coming from Olivia’s pocket). "What’s all this, then?" Pip squeaked, climbing onto the table. His paws left little dusty prints on the paper. Pat-pat-pat.

Olivia sighed, her shoulders drooping like wilting flowers. "I can’t stay in the lines, Pip! The king will think I’m terrible at coloring!" Pip tilted his head, his nose wiggling. Then, with a sudden boing!, he jumped onto the crayon bucket. Clatter! The crayons rolled everywhere, and Pip landed right in the middle of them, his tail swishing like a paintbrush. Swish-swish!

"Pip!" Olivia giggled. But then she had an idea. She picked up the yellow crayon and handed it to Pip. "Here, you try!" Pip grabbed it with both paws and—zoom!—drew a zigzag so wild it looked like a lightning bolt. Olivia laughed so hard she snorted. Pfft!

Slowly, Olivia realized something. Coloring wasn’t about being perfect. It was about having fun! She took a deep breath, picked up the green crayon again, and this time, she moved it slowly. Swish… swish… The vines grew neat and tidy, the flowers bloomed bright and cheerful, and even the frog’s crown looked regal again. The paper smelled of wax and happiness, and the castle walls echoed with the sound of Olivia’s giggles. Ting-ting-ting!

When the king saw Olivia’s drawing, his eyes twinkled like stars. "Magnificent!" he boomed. "You’ve colored with patience and joy!" Olivia beamed, her cheeks as pink as the roses in the garden. And from that day on, whenever she picked up a crayon, she remembered: the best drawings aren’t perfect—they’re happy.

And Pip? Well, he got his own tiny crown and a lifetime supply of cheese. Yum!