Starting commencement of begining again

Marci and I have entered into a pact more sacred than the pinky promise and the spit handshake. That is, that each party shall record their week at the end thereof, after which they shall exchange compositions and correct any error they may find in the other. The first question that may arise is if Daddy knows what a dangling participle is and how to avoid such amateurish mistakes. I am not expecting to receive much in the way of grammatical lenience, as the only recourse I have for an overly punitive review of my work is the withholding of a meager allowance, the proverbial drop in the bucket of babysitting money that flows to my oldest child like the riches of El Dorado. I can already spot 2 errors. I hope she goes easy on me. It is not easy to sneak things past her. She is, after all, a science fair finalist.

Our greatest day in this young year is the baptism of our lovely Chloe. She genuinely desires the things that are right. She asked Mark Davis to give the talk on recieving the Holy Ghost and all were touched by his sincere and heartfelt comments. I love to hear her sing and as of this moment I am enjoying the renditions of Wicked's "Popular" however, if the past is any indication of things to come, I may come to curse the name of the Davis girls who gave her the CD after I endure the 600th performance. "Popular. I know about pop-u-lar!"

Which do you prefer? Huricane or tornado, earthquake or volcano, Bonnie or Clyde, Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dumb, Firing squad or electric chair? I love this picture of my two little boys. The face of the eldest, serene and handsome while his backside hangs most the way out of his pants. Typical. The younger lifting his wall of sound to violently terrorize your eardrums. Firing squad and electric chair, kind of like both, twice.