No matter where John and neighbor Logan are, it is game time. Logan threw his backpack on the ground and ran to the light pole and back. As we ambled toward the bus stop, John picked up the school bag. It somehow became a punching ball, a target, and a shield. They didn’t have enough time to formulate rules.
The laughter was from neighbor Marla and John. You won’t hear me, because I tend to hold my breath when recording. I cannot stand hearing my own voice coming back at me. Is anyone else like that?