Cave dweller

In Ben's world, last week was full of things to discuss (at length) with a therapist when he's 20.

Here are a few highlights:

* We drove in the car WITH HARPER! on Wednesday all the way to Man-happenin' Kansas (Manhattan) to take Harper for her knee surgery. (He kept saying, "Harpie's in the car! Harpie's in the car. You SEE HER?")

* Saturday, Ben discovered that incarceration might be okay. We bought Harper a hard plastic kennel (which she stays in for 8 weeks) and Ben loves it. He calls it "Harper's cave."

* When we put Harper in the kennel, Ben cried and shook the kennel. In his most indignant, 2-year-old voice he cried,"No Harper. Get OUT!!! It's NOT your turn. It's my turn. I need to go in the cave."

So, for the last few days, when Ben is in the family room, he demands to be closed in Harper's kennel ("Close the door. I need you to close the door.") while he watches shows, reads books, or draws. It reminds me of the "potted plant" days when I could park him in his bouncy seat or exer-saucer and return a few minutes later knowing exactly where he'd be. Ah, the good old days.

Enjoy the pictures below. We know you'll be character witnesses at our inevitable visit from social services once Ben confesses at school that he plays in a cage all day.