We’d been getting some slight pressure from some sectors of our family who shall remain nameless—Mom—to get a professionally-done photo of the kid. To be honest, I really don’t like those pictures where the kid still looks more like an alien than a Towles. So, our waiting was part planning and part we-don’t-have-time-to-do-this-in-between-feeding-clothing-sleeping-and-burping this little monster.
As we were at home dressing for this event, Sunday asked me, “What should Jonah wear?” It was a very important question, one that would impact how we would see the little guy for years to come. Important question. Wrong person asked. I looked at Jonah and he usually smiled at me. I didn’t mind if wore the overalls instead of the blue jeans. It didn’t matter to me. As a father, I did not care what the kid wears for most of these occasions. On top of that, if I did make the choice, it would probably not look as good as if Sunday made the decision.
Fortunately, Sunday and I have the “if it doesn’t matter to me, then you make the decision” conversation. This conversation says that if one of us does not care about the outcome of a situation, then the other person can make the decision on his/her own. For instance, I usually don’t care what we eat for dinner. My favorite food is “leftovers.” Doesn’t matter, usually. For Sunday, she actually has to have food that tastes good. I require food in the correct abundance. Thus, if we’re going out to eat, she’ll choose where we’ll go, as long as there is enough of it to fill me up.
For our pictures, she made the call, and we left with jeans on, but different shirts.
As we entered the picture place, I realized a few things:
One: the picture place looks like every other picture place on the planet. From Tallahassee to Tel-Aviv, the same cheesy pictures on the wall, the same props and the same nasty carpet. Never enough seats, and never any reading material.
And we wonder why we waited so long to get pictures done…
Two: the person taking the picture NEVER looks like he/she should be working with the public. The woman who took Jonah’s picture needed to slap on some deodorant and drag a comb through her hair. A toothbrush would have also been a great idea, too.
Three: the posing suggestions always make me nervous.
The first thing the picture person, a.k.a. “nature girl” tells me to do is take off my shoes. I thought she felt uncomfortable around people who regularly wore shoes. (Remember, we lived in Kentucky). Then, she had me stand up on the large box that we should have been sitting on for the picture. I am wondering where she’s going with this, especially since she now has a great camera shot at my quadriceps.
But then, the magic happened.
She redeemed herself like no other. She stood Jonah up in front of me and I held his hands way above his head. He smiled, stuck out his tongue, and the woman took his picture. Cutest thing you ever saw.
There’s something you need to know about Jonah. He is a personable little guy who likes to laugh and coo at people. His most endearing habit, in my opinion, though, is his penchant for sticking out his tongue. He smiles, toothless, with tongue protruding. He screams, mouth agape, with tongue protruding. He sleeps, lips pursed, with tongue protruding. He’s like a lizard or something. Every picture we took had him smiling with his tongue out. It was a good time.
I got out of there with my boy happy, my wife happy, and with my shoes on.