June 21, 2010
Originally published October 19, 2002
Blogger tried to eat it again, but I managed to save THE LATEST POST from my son on his new blog.
When we set up the blog, he wanted to call it "Quinton Farted." I talked him out of that name, but he didn't stray far from his original intentions with his second choice. Due to some maintenance problems I wasn't quite finished with in my bedroom last night, (yeah... there's one hell of a blog just waiting to be told about THAT) we both slept on the couch. Quinton was under the ratty white blanket on the love seat and I was under a comforter on the sofa. I had to get him up and moving in time to drive 40 miles to a soccer game by 8:00 this morning, so I woke him at 6:45.
He sat up, looked at me with sleepy eyes.... and started making fart-noises with a hand in his armpit. I AM NOT MAKING THAT UP! So, his blog title fits; the flower of my joy is a FART BLOSSOM.
I will be leaving Blogger shortly, and I hope to bid it a fond farewell. But I may leave cussing like a sailor if it keeps screwing with my kid's posts. I am accustomed to the hassle, and I put up with it. My son will shoot the computer with fart-bullets he manufactures using his armpit and a pointed finger, and he will wander off to do other things if Blogger screws with him. I hope that doesn't happen, although even Blogger Pro has stopped publishing for most of today and he's operating on simple Blogspot.
He would rather make fart-noises with his armpit anyway.
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