The Life and Times of Henry Hazelton

Henry was an adorable baby to say the least.

Like all babies, he would cry when he needed something, but most of the time he was actually very quiet, often staring at things with open curiosity. He would laugh sometimes, but he was not the type that entertained easily.

With the enhancement of mankind since your ascension to godhood, his development came much quicker than in the old world. While human babies would usually take between 1 to 6 months to be able to lift their heads, he was able to do it in three weeks, just in time for the birth of his half sister Lauren.

Her birth was not as monumental as Henry's, considering Henry's birth was the first for your family.

She gave birth to a baby girl that day. You all named her Lauren, after your mother and her and Henry's grandmother.

Henry was a real troublemaker.

He was a year and a half and he was already a problem. You know the saying "it takes a village to raise a child"? Well, sometimes you and Donar and all of your wives would keep tabs on the toddler. While it was obvious that Henry was going to be a genius (that wasn't paternal pride talking: that's just a fact), he was also easily distracted, and whenever you, Lara and Maya would look away - even for a second - suddenly he was gone and the whole village would be whipped into a panic, only for someone to find him, crying to himself with his diaper in need of changing.

Memo to self: Workshop "potty training dilemma" for future divine decree.

Henry was a sweet boy. Brothers and sisters bicker and fight all the time, but he seemed to get along pretty well with his baby sisters. He was only three years old when his mom gave birth to his sister Katy and he immediately declared that he loved her with all his little heart. He walked up to his oldest sister Lauren, who at the time was sitting on Lara's lap, biting and drooling on a piece of deer-bone to help her teething gums and tried carrying her up to meet her new baby sister.

It was the cutest thing all of them had ever seen.

He soon did it again when Madison gave birth to her and Donar's son Zeke a few weeks later.

Henry was a strange boy. No question about that.

Henry was his odd knack for engineering.

When you changed the world, you had inadvertently removed all the factors that eventually created the 21st century. The most complex form of technology now were rocks tied to sticks for hunting and tents.

Lara would sometimes take him and his sisters out hunting with her and show them how to do it, but while Lauren and Haley took to it like a duck to water, Henry was took easily distracted to really pay attention to it.

When everyone would crowd around the bonfire for dinner and you would see that he was covered in dirt, from his hands to his face and from his feet to his knees. When Maya would ask what happened to him, he would make something up, each excuse different from the previous night. "Oh I tripped and fell." "I was attacked by a wolf-pack but I fought them off and drove them away." "Mud spirits. It was mud spirits."

It was a month before Lauren blurted out what was happening. Apparently he made the mistake of entrusting his eldest sister (who was notorious for having a big mouth) with this secret thing he had been working on for the past few months and next thing we knew we all followed he to a little cove deep in the forest where he was unwittingly waiting.

Apparently he had taken a spearhead and drawn lines in the dirt, and there were neat little lines of sprouts coming out of the top of these lines of dirt. One of the lines were half empty, with a basket made from woven sticks and long-grass was full of pink bulbs, one such bulb in Henry's hand with a bite taken out of it.

Onions. Your son had been growing onions.

Everyone was scratching their heads in confusion. They would ask what he was doing and why he was eating that root when more appetizing fruit grew with kudzu-like abandon in their little valley.

While everyone was confused at the purpose of such labor, you thought differently. Having memory of the old world and schools and history, you recalled that the first step civilization took was going from nomadically following animal herds and gathering fruit and vegetables that grew wildly to growing those plants and raising the animals yourself.

You felt a warm sense of pride as you looked at your son, covered in dirt, his short crop of reddish-brown hair full of grass and sweat and failing to justify his hobby.

Your son had single-handedly invented agriculture.