I probably have more pictures of my daughter at 20 months than I
have of my entire childhood. Every month when I sit her on the couch to
take her monthly photo I have to take 15 of them just to get a shot
without a blurry arm or an odd facial expression.
It's
obviously easier to craft the way we want to remember something
nowadays. We pick and choose what we want people to see and that becomes
part of the experience. If we don't like it we just shoot another one.
Em is too young to remember these moments herself, so these are the
photos that will tell her how things were. Will the toddlers of today
grow up to think they truly had "picture perfect" childhoods?
We
visited Santa twice this year to get the perfect shot. The first time
we waited in line for 30 minutes and just as we were about to go in a
family of five came back to redo their photos. That was it - the dam
broke and there was no sucking back those tears. She cried on my lap and
Santa calmly reassured me that it happens all the time. He said we
should just come back every weekend and let her say hello to him until
she's ready.
Theoretically this is nice. Just come back
and say hello to Santa. But at this Santa you must take a number and
that number will just give you permission to get on the line where you
will then wait for another hour to grace the Big Man's presence. But we
came back the next weekend and this time we got the shot. The perfect
Norman Rockwell shot to go with the perfect fluke Norman Rockwell shot
we got last year. The pressure is now on to keep them up - year after
year. Same Santa, slightly bigger Em.
This past
weekend, we went to the LA Zoo. Elmo and Cookie Monster were doing a
meet and greet. After waiting 45 minutes for a bagel sandwich at a
nearby cafe, then sitting in traffic to then circle the parking lot
looking for a magical free spot, I was very close to losing it
completely. (Full disclosure, I had actually already lost it at the
restaurant, but I managed to get it back together on the way to the
zoo.)
But we got in line, the end of which thankfully
started in a shady spot, as the sun was really out in full force. And we
waited. We could see Elmo and Cookie in the distance. In the time we
were there they traded off twice, taking turns to meet the kids. Each
time one of them reappeared they were greeted like rock stars - a
general hum and cheer rippling through the crowd.
Em
would point and wave and told us she was going to hug them when we got
up front. But anticipation is not the same as reality. When it was
finally our time to meet Elmo - she took one look at this eight foot
tall monster and freaked out.
You only get one shot at
something like this. Thirty seconds to get it right. That wasn't going
to happen. I handed over my iphone quickly and the woman taking pictures
snapped a series of my kid screaming her head off, Elmo attempting to
put a reassuring hand on her shoulder -just making it worse. And then we
were escorted away - the old boot to the face Christmas Story style. An
hour for a minute - the end. As we stepped away and Elmo faced his next
victim, Em turned back and waved goodbye. Whatever bothered her was in
the past. But we'll always have the photo to remember it by.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment