If I could watch a video of me this morning trying to get a picture of my kids, I'm sure it would be beyond painful. My expectations were low. I wasn't demanding eye contact and smiles from this crowd- I'm no fool. But I did want less nose picking. And less crying about someone touching someone's bug bite that really stings and then it reminds them that it's there and then they need a band-aid and some cream and a turkey sandwhich right now or they simply won't be able to manage a smile. Taking pictures of my kids makes me want to poke myself in the eye. Or poke them. Gently, Not in the eye. By the time it's over I don't even want any pictures of them, much less 679 of them taking turns closing their eyes, puffing out their cheeks, or pointing at birds. And this time we even got a series of Lila doing a solid "Heil Hitler" stance, which I plan on canvasing immediately and putting over my fireplace.
I promised them cookies and milk and a movie if they cooperated. And they really didn't. But I gave it to them anyway just to buy me an hour to review the digital disaster.
No comments:
Post a Comment