I have this thing about snaps.
You know, snapshots? Thee ole family photo album?
I love them. The older, the better. You could find me at a very young age flipping through old pictures, like, all the time.
See, snapshots are memories.
And, well, to be honest, I don't foresee any kid ever going,
"Remember that one time we got all dressed up and went over to Sears for our pictures? Aaahhh, the memories. .. "
I'm not knockin' the formal portrait. They have their place. I'm just sayin' that it's a personal opinion that all those "other" photos will infinitely mean more.
But that's just me.
And you know, not to say that the kids are gonna grow up and go,
"Remember that one time you snapped a picture of me half-naked by the window? That was awesome."
'Cause, you know, they're not gonna.
So, what am I saying?
I'm saying that the hubs told me he had to look pretty far back in thee old bloggity blog for a picture of our eldest.
Well, that's because we don't love him, anymore. Duh.
Really, though, it made me sad.
I enjoy taking those snaps, just because.
That's what I'm saying.
I'm saying that I have little to no portraits of me. And that's how I like it.
But I will regret it.
No, don't turn your head.
I'm saying that I look better sideways. That's what I decided. And I don't airbrush my pores for you, or anybody!
I'm saying that the ones with character are the good ones. Even if there is a flood in the left bat cave.
I'm saying-- snap away.
I'm saying, that one day, when we're old and gray, rocking in our rocking chairs with our photo albums, we won't flip through them and go:
"Man, I really caught your personality in these photographs. And that is something I deeply regret."
Pretty sure. Unless maybe you've like raised a crazy psycho or something.
And, frankly, sometimes I wonder.
(Tracy's Portrait Party)