Alternately titled: Where We Torture Our Kid Under the Guide of “Art.”
I’ll tell ya, we’re met with more and more resistance every year when it comes to picture-taking. I got all exasperated, which is my usual go-to response to adversity, followed quickly by the ever-popular solution of “I QUIT.” But then right as I was about to pack it up, Chooch started to use an old guard rail as a balance beam, so Henry fulfilled his quota of “one bright idea every five years” by tricking Chooch into having his photo taken while “doing things.”
Then we dared him to run as fast as he could to another spot and then suggested he sit down amidst the leaves after he hurt his ankle.
Henry encouraged him to hurdle over headstones, which of course resulted in Chooch eventually catching his foot on one and falling, leaving him with a handsome bruise on his leg. BLAME HENRY.
Then we paid him all the money in our pockets* to take his coat off for approximately 3 minutes so we could get some shots of his sweater, since that day’s outfit was a happy accident. (All three of us blindly picked out one component of the outfit, and somehow it worked.)
*(This amounted to $7. I actually had $4 in my pocket only because it was change from when we went to see Gremlins last week. I usually never have cash. Seriously, don’t ever bother mugging us.)
He looks thrilled, right?