Family photo

I have been placed into the "bad mom" category. I have failed to have my family members photographed at proper intervals. Falling short in diligence may be a theme in several areas of my life. Luckily, the members of my church have a picture directory of families and it requires my participation.

In an effort to understand how the process works, I look through old church directories. Oh my. My family is going to string me up for this. Our participation is going to require matching clothes and a comb. The pictures are stunning. Families are stacked up in heaps to get all of the faces into the picture. There are only four of us, so I think we're going to be in the minority here. Why is the average number of children in this directory five? Sorry, we'll just have to make due with two or possibly grab other children off the street. Hair is going to be a problem. The kids in the pictures are impossibly clean and have some recently-wetted and parted-to-the-side hair. We don't own a comb.

Dissatisfied with the clothing choices, the kids complain at me all the way to church. My only reply is, "count your lucky stars that I did not put you in a button up shirt with a clip-on tie." The horror shows visibly on their faces and they stop complaining about the shirts they have on. My husband sets the tone for the evening by listing the other things that he could be doing instead. "I could be watching t.v., playing on the computer, getting a lobotomy..." So helpful!

Our little family is ushered into the waiting room where the boys start picking at each other and inevitably one of them pokes the other in the eye. Good thing it was the tall one that got tagged in the eyeball, because he's at least going to be put in the back row.

We're called into the photo area and the guy says, "Is this all of you?" I've never felt self-conscious about having ONLY two children before. "Yes, there are just the four of us." He answers, "Well, alright then, I think we can make something of this." I don't even know what that means.

Properly placed, he starts snapping away with the camera. The ancient photographer lifts his head from behind the camera and squints at us. "You know that little one is screwing up his eyes." I'm confused. I look at our younger son. He's obviously amused. I tell him to stop whatever he's doing and stand there like a gentleman. Where did that come from? I'm sure my son has never had that term used on him and honestly, who talks like that anymore? This experience is taking me down a path I'm not comfortable traveling. I'm starting to sound like my crotchety grandmother.

At last, the photo shoot is over, but sadly, this is not the end of my responsibilities. Now we have to choose the photo for the directory. My husband and I sit in front of the computer monitor and a woman brings up five different pictures. Ugh, I hate looking at pictures of myself. I lean in and get a good look at myself. I look terrified. Yeah, that's about right. A picture's worth a thousand words. In the first two shots, my youngest son has his eyes crossed. Of course, those are the poses where everyone else looks best. My husband and I have a non-verbal conversation. We both realize that the rest of us look great in photo number one. I lift my eyebrows and tilt my head toward the screen. He smiles and shrugs. I tell the lady that we would like photo number one in the directory. She looks incredulous and states the obvious, "The little one has his eyes crossed in that one." I respond, "Yeah, but the rest of us look great." She's obviously worried about getting in trouble, so I offer, "They're used to our family here, and they haven't kicked us out yet."

Alas, we have become "that" family. When I welcome new members, they look at me and say, "Aren't you the family with the cross-eyed kid in the directory?" Heehee, I'm bettin' they can't identify any other family from the directory. The only thing my youngest son had to say about his picture was, "Well, I guess I won't be doing that again next time." Perfect.