I am the primary picture-taker chez nous, which is why I appear in roughly one percent of the Johnson family pictures. And those are usually pictures I’m taking of myself and the kidlets – with the camera held at arm’s length.
The professor is getting better at occasionally taking the camera from me and pointing it in my direction; documenting my presence. Though he has an uncanny ability to press the shutter button right as I’m blinking. So, I look intoxicated-slash-possessed in at least half….of said one percent of photos.
I’m not sure what’s worse – for the boys to have virtually no pictures of their mom (when they’re grown and I am gone). Or for them to think I looked like a she-devil with a drinking problem.
Either way, given recent events (in which I was summarily omitted from the family Christmas story), I am grateful to have this picture. To prove that I did, in fact, endure the journey and brave the 18 degree (Fahrenheit) weather if only to document ‘the boys’ getting a Christmas tree.
After my last post, I found the Christmas book the Gort had made. Apparently he’d felt a little guilty about leaving me out of the first ‘scene’ in which the brothers and the paternus familias ‘get a Christmas tree’. So he wrote me into the second ‘scene’.
‘Then Goran and Mom and Dad and Henno got in the car. And went home.’
Which, of course, raises several questions: What happened to Percy? Why is my hair flipped out? And why are we driving a Jeep?