Last night, Sage crept away from the dinner table. When I peeked around the corner into the kitchen, I saw her dragging a stepladder over to the silverware drawer, hoisting herself up, shuffling around in the clutter, and retrieving a large spoon.

It may have been the stupidest moment yet in the ongoing series of Things My Kids Do That Make Me Cry.

“A spoon!” I cried to her. “You got your own spoon!”

She beamed with pride.

“For my chicken nuggets,” she said. And then she proceeded to eat them. With her spoon.

You know, one moment you’re staring down at your tiny, squirmy, helpless little four day-old infant,  wondering what in the world you will ever do with such a thing. The next moment, she’s two-and-a-half, getting her own spoon out of the drawer.

It’s a freaking miracle, I tell you.