Dear Mom, I am sorry that every picture of you was blurry or that my children resemble the crazies down the street. I guess my shakey hands need a tripod injection.
This is me admitting that every time you are here, there is never any evidence of you ever being here. No picture trail, no grandma!( here comes the empathy card) However, if it makes you feel better, my children will have no evidence that I ever raised them, because I am behind the lens, and daddy's version of photo art is usually disgarded somewhere in the kitchen.
Needless to say here is the best I have with the photos I captured.
Now, since we were working on affirming ourselves, here are a few lines that need repeating:
" You are so much better looking in person!"
"Wow, I didn't know you had younger siblings! You must be the best big sister!"
" Who is that somewhat blurred but all the more beautiful knock-out?"
" That camera lens just couldn't contain all that beauty. How do you do it?"
Repeat twice daily.
LaShay
1 comment:
I find it interesting that you blame the look of your spawn on the camera angles.
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