What God wants twelve year old priests?

Gnocchi Nico I prepared earlier

Last night, after Mr G and I finished another sublime dinner (I know - I cooked it) he rose to take the plates into the kitchen, and I said while you're in there, after you rinse and stack can you wipe the benches. 

He emerged a few minutes later and wiped down the table where we'd just eaten. I said thanks, the table needed that, but can you also wipe the benches. I think he nodded. 

Some time later I went into the kitchen and saw the benches were wilfully, obstinately unwiped; the jars of salt, pepper, thyme, cayenne, and the 83 other herbs and spices I put into every meal were still out, and there was a glob of olive oil, a couple of bits of broken spaghetti, an unwashed knife, and various other detritus one would expect from an enthusiastic but imprecise cook still on the bench. I try to clean up as I go, but I also like listening to podcasts and loud music while I cook and sometimes things get away from me. And in any case, I had delegated final cleaning duties for this evening. Seeking to ascertain where was the weak link in the chain of command, I grilled my subordinate. "I thought I told you to wipe the benches."

"I did."

"No, these benches are clearly and definitively unwiped."

Mr G gestures at the table. "I wiped it. It's clean."

"And that's great, but you were also supposed to wipe the benches."

"I thought you meant to clean the table."

"No, whilst you were cleaning the table I also told you to wipe the benches."

"I guess I just got confused."

"What did you think I meant when you were cleaning the table, and I told you to clean the benches as well - you know what, I have had a long week of work and I'm too tired for this" and I poured myself a large glass of wine, cleaned the benches myself, then we continued our current binge watching of Black Mirror. 

And this little vignette from life would be completely meaningless, except today I was browsing around on Wikipedia (public holiday, time to spare) and after following link after link after link after link ended up reading about Mormon priesthood, knowing very little about the Latter Day Saints as there's only 50,000 professed members of the LDS church in Australia and I don't think I've ever met one open about their faith. Anyhow, I realised that according to the tenets of the Latter Day Saints, if we were a part of that church, my son, on account of having turned 12, would be eligible to join the priesthood, if at a sort of junior level.  

Would you buy eternal
salvation from this man?

But I, on account of my ladying being a lady, never would be.

This kid who cannot even keep track of what is a kitchen bench and what is not. He's a very smart kid in many other ways , but this is not someone who should have a direct path to God on account of a 2.0μm chromosone won the race to the ovum 13 years ago. It's bad enough that any religion exludes women from the decision making end of things, but saying guys can be deacons at twelve?