J+M+J
Landon had just finished playing with Dad’s air compressor. He had done something to release the pressure for a moment, and it had made a loud sound of air rushing out. Maria and John were getting their pajamas on, and I had just finished putting Joseph’s on. I was talking to Mom about how little things I have had to blog about recently, how funny and talkative my friends baby brother (who happens to be a couple months younger than Joseph) is. “Mom,” I said “I don’t have anything to blog about. My blog is very bare. Alexander used to keep me well supplied with funny things, but now he is going to turn four and doesn’t say so much innocently hilarious stuff anymore. Joseph can’t talk yet very well, so he can’t say funny things. (To Joseph) Joseph, why can’t you talk more like John?” (My friend’s baby brother’s name) I just continued on doing what I was doing, when a few minutes later the air compressor suddenly started going again. Joseph was fleeing from it in pure terror, screaming, “Mom! Mom! Mo-o-o-o-om!” All the way from the air compressor to Mom’s arms, with the air compressor going loudly. We got the air compressor stopped up, and Joseph wasn’t yet recovered from the scare. Mom said, “Who says he doesn’t do funny stuff? That was right on cue.” I replied, “I’m of to my blog!” I was thinking, ‘My blog isn’t so bare now.’
A+M+D+G