I was thumbing through my journal, sizing up the content that is to come. I reach the end, there are a few blank pages, and then I see this:

It would seem that while I was away at college, my brother Steve saw fit to claim my property as his own and pour his own thoughts on paper. As payback for soiling my stuff, I will dump the best entries here. HAHA!

Entry 3: 12-3-07

Today was a regular day.Today on the advent calendar we saw a blind man. Thats it.

Entry 5: 12-12-07

Today was hectic. I woke up about 11:00 o clock. We had lunch. Then Mom and me went to pick up Verna. I had to go because Mom wanted to get me some new mass shoes because I had to serve tonight. Mom bought a 60 pair of shoes. So we went to Wal Mart just in case we could find anything cheaper (and better). We found a pair but we didn't get them. Then we got me a mass shirt. Then we went. When it was time to go I put on all me new stuff. We got me socks to. Then we went. When we got outside I said shotgun first but didn't get to sit up front!! >:( !!! When we got to church Mom escorted me to the sacristy. There I put on a cassick, surplice, and a cape. Father Festas was ate so immediately after he got dressed mass started. As we were walking down the aidle deacon Joe noticed that my cape was inside out. Well that really stank. After mass I put out the candles but I didn't put out the advent wreath candles because I didn't think I was supposed to. Then we went home. Dad got Taco Bell for supper because we hadn't had any supper because mass was at 5:15. Then we watched the Santa Claus. While mom and I were shopping everyone made peppermint bark. Well my hand is killing me now so I'll quit.

Funnily enough, out of the sixteen entries he wrote, this is the only one that doesn't end in the phrase "Well, that's it".

What I find particularly interesting (or perhaps disconcerting) is the fact that his prose is nigh identical to my own in my first few entries. Those three word sentences are poetic beauty. Granted, he was only eleven at the time of these writings whereas I was thirteen. Perhaps I was a little behind the curve...

He's made up for it in the five years since, though. He recently entered a piece into a writing contest held by the local library and took away second place (netting him a not too shabby $50 prize). More than I can say for myself at that age.

At sixteen I was busy destroying the YPN...