>An odd thing happens when your children become teenagers. Where once they were they were the (generally) eager subjects of thousands of pictures and hours of home video, suddenly they turn 13 and you’re hard pressed to snap a single decent shot of them to send to the grandparents.
It’s as if they just disappear from the family photo albums. Or, as in my case, they’re replaced by… Circus Clowns.
All I wanted on my birthday was a picture with my three girls. But when I eagerly uploaded the photos onto my computer the next day, I only had shots of Punky, me, and what appears to be two members of a radio Morning Zoo Crew.
Hubs likes to think he’s number one in the girls’ book, but he does no better in the photo department. He’s always trying to convince them to pose for a father-daughter portrait. Yeah. Good luck with that.
Since we can’t get a simple smile for love or money (well, to be honest, we probably could get a smile for money, but that’s going just a little too far), we go for “candid” shots. In response, the girls become… mimes. I think I liked the circus clowns better.
And so, my idealistic young mother friends, enjoy the cherubic grins of your little ones while you’ve got ’em. The day will come when your scrapbook resembles the Sunday funny papers. But you’ll have to come up with the punchlines all by yourself.