Thursday, December 6, 2007

2 Year Old - Free to Good Home

Christmas picture time. I hate it. I tried to soften the blow of the activity a little this year by actually making an appointment. Every other time I get pictures done there's a line of families already in front of me and its annoying to watch other people's kids be cute while your kid is rolling around on the floor messing up the hair that you spend a scream-filled 20 minutes trying to perfect. So I got Liv's frou-frou dress all Christmas looking with black velvet and plaid and these cute little black patent leather baby doll shoes, but I realized the morning of picture day that all her tights are in the hamper because I haven't done laundry in 3 weeks. So I drop her at my mom's in the morning, ask her to get Liv ready, and I will pick up a pair of tights on my way back from work. I get done work at 1 and my appointment is at 2:30. It's tight, but I knew I could do it. So I stop and get tights, get to my mom's, drag Liv out to the car kicking and screaming. We get to the picture place at 2:15. (They actually told me that if I wasn't there by 2:15 then I would lose my appointment. Why not just make my appointment for 2:15 then? I don't get these people.)

So there is this 1 year old getting his picture done in a little suit with one of those newsboy caps on. He won't smile. In fact, at intervals he starts crying horrible, obnoxious tears. And the "photographers" are just doing everything and anything to get this kid to smile. Waving the paper in his face, tickling him with that duster thing they use, shaking Elmo dolls. My appointment time comes and goes and this ugly ass, annoying kid still isn't fucking smiling. Liv is getting antsy, running around and messing with all the toys in the toy section. She is, of course, rolling around on the ground messing up her hair which is suddenly all staticy looking. Her dress gets wrinkled, this kid won't smile. Her hair bow falls out, this kid won't smile. Finally the kid smiles and the mom says, and I quote, " can I just put his hat back on?" She puts the kid's newsboy cap on and he FREAKS THE HELL OUT AGAIN. See this is where ugly kid's mom and I differ. I wouldn't give a shit about that hat at this point. I wouldn't care if Liv wanted to hold a hand grenade in one hand and a samurai sword in the other, as long I got a picture with a god damn smile. But NOOOOOO. Newsboy cap is so important, it is essential to the Christmas Picture of 2007. Whatever.

When it is finally my turn, guess what happens? My beautiful, princess dress bedecked daughter refuses to get on the stage for the pictures. "I'm scared, Mommy, I'm scared". She wouldn't do it. Sometimes I hate her. I basically wasted my entire afternoon trying to get HER picture done. What an ingrate.

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