(thanks Mom)
and if I was really deadset on informing you of our latest happenings, I'd probably call you, like maybe during dinner, or something. 
(during dinner)
So, if I'm not motivated by this transference of information, it's the comments that keep me going, the response/appreciation of the reader.
(listening to the masses)
The comment-fiend in me relishes that little "1 Comment" tag below each post, even if it is just my sister Liz, combining invective with affection: "Hey, freaks, we love ya!!!"
(a future comment-fiend)
I've supposed, erroneously, I now see, that if I wrote funny posts I'd get more comments. I called in sick to Life one day, and set upon some research, to discover just how a blogger can win this comments jackpot. Perhaps there's some sort of formula, or image sequence. My latest fish post (which I thought was pretty clever) garnered 1 Comment, my sister assaulting my social status (or perhaps reminding me of it).
(assaulted social status)
I visited all sorts of blogs: personal ones chock-full of recent vacation pictures; political blogs where people discover their true, inner Wolf Blitzer, and write about it; recipe blogs that I purposely left open, hoping that Maria would "get some ideas"; etc.
(Maria getting ideas)
During this online expedition, I discovered what most incited the commenting masses to comment: baby pictures. People just love baby pictures. A baby picture will out-comment a funny story post anyday. A picture of a baby looking intoxicated grabbed Six Comments. A picture of a baby holding a phone upside down to her ear got Five Comments. A picture of a baby wearing what must be her father's cowboy hat picked up an astounding 11 Comments. How can I compete with that? Can I write anything as amusing or comment-worthy as an eighteen-month old riding on top of what one hopes to be a lame Golden Retriever? Maria and I have yet to produce any of these little things, so we are at an obvious disadvantage.
(depressing disadvantage)
I wondered if it was just the situations, if the commenting was independent of the baby presence. Cowboy hats are always funny; maybe the baby didn't even need to be there. If I take a picture of myself chasing a butterfly on the lawn, will the comments get into the double digits? What if I make a mess of the kitchen, or dump the brownie mix on top of my head? Bath pictures?
(staring down the competition)
Anyway, I've decided to experiment on the baby picture theory.
(brown-nosing the commentators)
Thus, have at with your comments.
