May I remind you what last year was like? No, don't revisit that. Let's just pretend that was a scary nightmare and it didn't really happen.
Oh but it did, and so I was completely on edge from the moment I woke up this morning. I'd been prepping with the kids for a few days, practicing smiles that don't look strychnine poisoning-induced and just looking straight at the camera for the love, but I couldn't be sure. I was bracing for a repeating of 360 days ago. Or rather every previous 360ish day intervals of the past 8 years. It's a pattern is what I'm saying.
The kids got dressed and hairs were made presentable with a minimal level of grousing, and off we went. I'm not above admitting that upon arrival, there was a little begging on my part. Then I crossed my fingers and we marched inside.
As I expected, my pre-Thanksgiving timing meant that there was no line to see the big man. We stripped off coats, and while my kids got comfy on Kris Kringle's lap, I began my litany to the photographer. This might take awhile. I can never get them to look at the camera at the same time. Please don't call mall security. The photographer pretty much ignored the crazy lady barraging her and went about her business. And that's when the heavens opened at the angels sang.
Less than a dozen shots. Just a little grimacing from Sammy (somewhat) abated by telling him to relax. And we were done. With a decent picture of my 2 little monkeys and a holiday icon.
Could I nitpick this photo to death? Of course I could. But I'm not going to. Twenty minutes car door to car door and they're BOTH LOOKING AT THE CAMERA AND SMILING. It's a Christmas miracle.
Great! We gave up on Santa photos after the first year. The boys stop by and say hi, but no pictures works for me.
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