Alternate title: This may be my 2012 Christmas card photo.
While browsing through some old family photos, I came across this little gem.
At first glance, you just see a couple of happy cowboys on Christmas morning--my older brothers Scott, on the left, and Tim, right beside him.
But look closer--toward the middle--and you'll see me, enjoying my very first Christmas.
While browsing through some old family photos, I came across this little gem.
At first glance, you just see a couple of happy cowboys on Christmas morning--my older brothers Scott, on the left, and Tim, right beside him.
But look closer--toward the middle--and you'll see me, enjoying my very first Christmas.
Yup, I'm the little baby falling out of my infant seat, slowly sinking down in to the carpet.
You always hear about how protective parents are of their firstborn children, and how they ease up with all subsequent babies. For the record, I'm kid #3 (and now I wonder how my younger brother even survived!).
I burst into laughter when I saw it. I showed it to my mom, who laughed just as loudly.
Then we showed it to my dad, and I asked, "What am I doing in this photo?"
"You're looking at the Christmas tree," he answered. If I had to bet, I'd guess I found the photographer.
"I'm not looking at the tree," I corrected him. "I'm sliding out of the baby seat!"
"Oh," he said, looking closer. "Huh."
I planned to use the photo as leverage, a guilt-inducing tactic toward my parents ("Hey Mom, remember that time you let me fall out of my baby seat?"). Unfortunately, it didn't work, because my parents are completely immune to guilt.
"What do you want from us?" my mom asked, shrugging. "You survived, didn't you?"
Yes, Mom, I did. But is that really the level we were shooting for here, bare minimum? Basic survival? Is the fact that I'm happy, healthy, and well-adjusted just a fluke?
"You're looking at the Christmas tree," he answered. If I had to bet, I'd guess I found the photographer.
"I'm not looking at the tree," I corrected him. "I'm sliding out of the baby seat!"
"Oh," he said, looking closer. "Huh."
I planned to use the photo as leverage, a guilt-inducing tactic toward my parents ("Hey Mom, remember that time you let me fall out of my baby seat?"). Unfortunately, it didn't work, because my parents are completely immune to guilt.
"What do you want from us?" my mom asked, shrugging. "You survived, didn't you?"
Yes, Mom, I did. But is that really the level we were shooting for here, bare minimum? Basic survival? Is the fact that I'm happy, healthy, and well-adjusted just a fluke?
Whatever. Parenting skills were obviously more lax when I was a baby (my mom was probably off sipping vodka tonics while my dad photographed his gun-totin' sons). Some people might actually be mad about finding a photo like this...but I can't stop laughing at it!
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