Oh Boy!

Hey, it wasn't me who told Paul he could ride the tractor! AND turn on the mower! I blame it all on Dad.

Or maybe the word should be "credit" rather than "blame." My mom says that my niece, Jennifer, was mowing the lawn on a riding mower when she was nine or ten, without rolling the darn thing or running into anything. And Paul was having such a grand old time; you could hear him crowing to himself even over the roar of the mower as he made his way around the pasture.

I think now that I was wrong to raise such a fuss that Ben had Paul stop and get off the mower so Ben could finish the job. Next time I'll let Paul give it a whirl until he tired of it, which would probably be soon enough. After all, the pasture is level and I can't imagine that he'd flip the tractor or anything, so why not let him have a go?

It's funny, but I remember ages ago reassuring a friend of mine while she worriedly watched her ten-year-old grandson mow our field. It feels different when it's your child.

Let go, Mommy.