Today, I took the boys off to the mall for the annual pilgrimage to the picture taking location inside the baby store.
Eldest darn near gave himself whiplash rolling his eyes as we trudged through onesies and strollers to get to the photo place.
I felt like maybe I needed to apologize for it being inside said baby store, but it's not like I put it there. It just happens to the be the closest location. I could, I guess, have dragged us an hour away to the mall wherein the picture folks have their own, stand alone store. But that seemed like a waste of everyone's time.
Upon seeing the photo appointment on the calendar, eldest began sneering and demanding to know what I expected him to wear.
In years past, I have tried to coordinate the boys -- not matching matching, but enough that they were obviously dressed up brothers getting pictures made. Due to the sneer, I asked what he wanted to wear. His offer was fine, so I accepted. Youngest, not to be outdone, then stated what he'd be wearing.
And you know what? Fine. It's fine. It's all fine.
They look like them, I'll give you that.
Do I have photos of my boys dressed up in their Sunday best, coordinating well with one another? No. But I do have eldest in military-style cargo pants, and Army green shirt, and combat boots standing beside his brother in jeans, light up sneakers, and a grey and orange running shirt.
And really, I think the smiles I got were more genuine than when I pick out their duds, so I'll call it a win.
No comments:
Post a Comment