Benji's Plow

I took a technology class at BYU (taught by my dad, actually), and learned that the world changed with the invention of the plow. Once nomadic tribes got their hands and horses on a plow, they stopped traveling to find food, found homes near water sources, and grew crops in enough abundance to preserve some for winter seasons. Settlements turned into villages. Villages turned into cities. Art, music, civics, war; it all started with the plow.

Benji invented a plow. It involved pulling a chair over to the kitchen counter and climbing up. It opened a whole new world to him. Now he can watch mom mix cookie dough. Now he can help dad do the dishes. He can reach the Elmer's Glue. He can get his own slice of banana bread. He can open drawers and cupboards. Last week, mom glanced over from the sink to find him laying across the burners on the stove, fiddling with the knobs. Bad. There is no way to stop progress, short of removing all chairs from the house. So I keep the stove knobs in the cupboard. I removed knives from their beautiful magnet strip and put them in an inaccessible drawer. Now, how do I keep him from dancing on the kitchen table?

Benji starts nursery at church next Sunday. For those of you who may never have tried to attend church with a walking baby, this is a big day for us. A very big day.

Benji's recent advances may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I found the first GRAY HAIR on my head. I've had several gray eyebrows, but this is the first official gray hair. It was white, actually. I always kind of thought I'd get my mom's genes, and keep my silken brown until my mid 50s. Now I'm worried (which isn't going to help anything).