Glutton for Punishment

I have a love-hate relationship with family pictures: I love the family but hate everything about pictures.  Every. Thing. To begin, the actual shoot itself is a torturous gymnastic undertaking- much like -I imagine -herding (angry, drunk) well-groomed cats must be. Incentivized smiles, grip-lock grins, pinched posture and malevolent threats. So many threats. 

Despite the perfect coordination of this year's daring purple clothing schematic, everything else was utter disaster. Poor lighting, crappy attitudes, scary smiles, and Colson- the family photo bomb. (do you like how I did that?)  Just when a fake photographic moment prevailed, Colson employed his signature "flash dance" escape move. Jettisoned by his shrill scream, his captor (me) reflexively loosened my death grip on his fleshy thigh.  And Boom. Colson vanished.  Picture lost. Moment gone.  And photographer blacklists our name. (Fortunately, we move all the time.)

As the photographer made a hasty exit, she assured me that all evidence of the chocolate chips with which we plied Colson would be photo-shopped from his fat face.  In retrospect, I believe she would have also promised me a unicorn and peace in the Middle East just to escape.  You already saw this coming- but,of course-  the pictures were wretched. Colson's frown was accented by chocolate smears.  Kincaid posed like Vanilla Ice circa 1990. Jason looked blind- as in- without eyes. And I could have been mistaken for a haggard streetwalker. (Merry Christmas from "Pretty Woman" and family!)

So, we did the unthinkable: Planned a follow-up shoot. And yes, we also enjoy shoving bamboo reeds up our fingernails for fun. I  would like to say that round-two was redemptive in a pictorial sense- That my ardent efforts to be relaxed and falsely Rockwellian were rewarded. They were not. So I have decided: Next year, we are all jumping in the bathtub- one of the happiest, most contained places for my cray-cray kids. So, take that Pinterest! Photographers with valium on hand wanted.  

* the ones that could be salvaged (sort of)
* Note the (glaring) absence of a family picture 

Chocolate chips stored in those albino cheeks