Family pictures. Is there anyone in the history of ever that enjoys this event? It's like a slow kind of torture. Just figuring out what everyone needs to wear is it's own burden to tackle. Getting ready? The worst. The actual taking of the pictures? The worstest. Right?
I don't think my people have ever liked the clothes I force them to wear. And they're pretty vocal about it. There's yelling. Lots of yelling. From me. This is the one day of the year I try super hard to keep my frustrations on lock down. I mean, I really, really try. But then, Child #2 is still watching TV in a tank top and shorts 20 minutes before we need to leave. And her hair isn't done. So, I yell. I can't help it. My whole family hates me on picture day. I think even I hate me.
But then I get to sneak in some pictures of my own with my phone. And now that I'm days separated from the actual event, I can look at them and smile. Don't you just want to stare and say, "Aw, so adorb-zies!"
45 minutes into picture taking and this is where I found her. Laying on the grass. She said, "No more. I'm done." Two seconds later a bug flew into her eye and she jumped around and flailed her arms like she was having a seizure. It was so hysterical I almost started crying. But I didn't, because duh! Always stay camera-ready.
Now, just this morning, I realized that this is the last family picture we will take where everyone is still living at home. Long sigh.....
Happy Monday, friends.