Our Family Pictures

So I just made up some brownies.

I had been craving them so I announced it to Tom, who had just come home from an exercise.

His danged work called at 530 in the morning to tell Tom that there was a recall and he needed to get to the office.

Lovely.

I was not pleased to be disturbed so early, let me tell you.

When I informed Tom I was making brownies his eyes lit up and he went, "Duncin Hines?"

Um.

"No," I said. "Ghiridelli." I waved the box at him and he looked at it with distaste. He looked downright horrified.

"Amber," he said slowly as though speaking to a complete moron. "You know I just like Duncin Hines."

Yes. I know this. And usually I get Duncin Hines. But I saw the Ghiridelli brownies. On sale. And my mouth instantly started to water. I thought back to the Ghiridelli shop that we ate at in DisneyWorld and remembered how tasty my drinking chocolate was. And how delicious Tom's ice cream was. He claimed there was TOO MUCH chocolate on the ice cream.

Silly man.

There is no such thing as too much chocolate.

Anyhow, I got Tom to say that he'd TRY the Ghiridelli brownies.

Which, by the way, smell delicious.

So yesterday we had family pictures at Wal-Mart. I just had them there because really, we don't have a whole lot of studios to choose from.

We have Sears, which we tried last year. We had a lady who had no idea what she was doing.

We had an Olan Mills but it's in the K-Mart and the K-Mart here has a weird smell.

So that basically left Wal-Mart. I wish we had a JC Penney studio but we do not.

I woke Tom up at 330 and handed him an already dressed Natalie.

"Watch her," I instructed. "I need to get Tommy."

I always meet Tommy at the bus stop. When he climbed off the bus he asked if we were going to go take pictures.

"Yup," I said. "So you need to hurry and get dressed."

We wanted to leave by 4. And I wasn't even ready yet.

Thank goodness I'm not one of those women that take forever to get ready. Give me five minutes and I'm done.

I told Tommy that his clothes were on his bed and could he please get dressed while I got ready?

"I don't know how," he told me seriously.

Huh?

Okay, he's been dressing himself for many years now.

What does he mean he doesn't know how??

"Please just do it," I said and rushed into my bedroom.

Natalie was bouncing on the bed by Tom and her hair was a mess. I had put it up in pigtails complete with hair curlies. And now one pigtail was out and both hair curlies were gone.

"Where are the hair curlies?" I shrieked.

Yeah, I am not pleasant when I'm rushed.

Of course Tom immediately got defensive. "I don't know," he snapped, pushing the covers off of him and stomping towards the bathroom. "If you want me to smile, I suggest you NOT yell at me," he added over his shoulder.

Well, excuse me.

I searched the bed and found one hair curly. But I couldn't find the other and I was flipping out about that.

Oh yeah, I get pissy when I can't find something too.

So add being rushed to that and you basically have a cranky witch.

In between looking for the missing hair accessory, I was getting dressed. So I'd stick one leg in my pants, search the bed, stick my other leg in the pants, pull those up, peek under the pillows...

Of course I added my famous dramatics and would shout, "Where ARE you, hair curly?" as though it would suddenly leap out from its hiding place and be all, "HERE I am!"

(Which, holy crap, would have scared the ever loving mess out of me.)

When Tom came out of the shower I informed him in an even tone that I still couldn't find the hair curly and did he possibly know where it was?

I said it calmly because I didn't want to put him in a foul mood. I even forced a smile which probably looked scary because Tom recoiled when he noticed my expression. But then he went, "I have no idea," and because he was behaving like he didn't care it made my blood boil.

"All I need to do is find ONE hair curly!" I yelled, louder than I meant to. Then I clapped a hand over my mouth. Don't shout. Calm down.

"Who cares?" Tom answered. "Does she even NEED hair things?"

Yes.

Yes, it completes the outfit.

Men.

They just don't get it.

"Mommy!" Tommy called from his room. "I need help!"

So I left the hair curly drama and went in to help Tommy. He was thankfully dressed with the fancy shoes I had left out on his feet.

"My feet can't breathe in these," Tommy told me matter-of-factly lifting up one foot.

"You don't have to wear them for long," I promised him. "Just for a little bit."

Tommy looked horrified. "But," he sputtered. "My feet can't BREATHE in these!"

"Honestly Tommy, it's just for a little bit. Maybe an hour. Can you do that for me?" I begged.

I mean I still had to brush my hair and put on my makeup. I did not have time for shoe drama.

Granted, I really didn't have time for hair curly drama, either.

"I guess," Tommy sighed out. He gave his feet an angry shake and muttered, "My feet can't breathe."

I rushed downstairs where Tom was waiting with Natalie.

"Here," Tom said, strolling over and dropping the missing hair curly in my palm.

"You FOUND it!" I said. "Where was it?"

Tom shrugged. "You know. Around."

Gee. Vague much?

So I quickly brushed my hair, slapped on some makeup and then re-did Natalie's hair.

And then finally we were off.

"Daddy. I can't breathe in these shoes," Tommy informed Tom as we walked out to the truck.

Oy.

We got the Wal-Mart fifteen minutes early and headed for the portrait studio.

There was only one woman there and she was picking up the waiting area.

"Oh just sign in," she called out. "I'm just cleaning up."

"My feet can't breathe in these shoes!" Tommy felt the need to bellow.

I had Tom sign in because I had to fix Natalie's hair again.

"Uh," he called out. "When was Natalie born again? March...what?"

Seriously?

That's pretty sad.

We were called back soon after that.

The lady said hi to Natalie and Natalie, who is shy around strangers immediately covered her face.

"Well, at least she didn't scream at me," the lady said with a laugh.

Yet. I didn't tell her that Natalie has been known to yell at people who have gotten too close.

First we did the family photos. When the lady told me to place Natalie down on the table I thought Natalie might scream in horror.

But no. She happily sat on the table and pointed to the camera and yelled, "Cheese!"

"Okay just hold your smiles and look at the camera so I can snap right when the baby smiles!" the lady instructed us.

Holding a smile for a long period of time starts to hurt ones cheek. Tom muttered beside me, "I can't hold smiles."

"You better," I replied through my scary grin.

"How much longer?" Tom said in garbled speech.

The lady was able to get some good pictures. In one Tom looks like a serial killer. His eyes are startled and he has this horrified look on his face.

We also did some of the kids together.

And then of them by themselves.

After that we waited a few minutes for the lady to pull them up on her computer.

Now, I had planned on only getting the $3.99 deal and possibly one other pose.

"I don't plan on spending more than $20," I told Tom firmly.

"Right," he answered in a disbelieving tone.

Because he knows me well.

I mean could I help that the pictures turned out cute? I honestly thought that Tommy's smile would be forced and Natalie would be screaming in horror.

But no. They both looked precious.

I ended up spending $53.

Oops.

They'll be ready on December 3rd and I can share them then.

The family picture that I ended up picking out, Tom is smirking. He doesn't look pissed at least. At that point he said that his mouth hurt.

But some of the pictures where he WAS smiling the kids looked off.

In another, I looked frightening.

After that we looked around the store. Tom bought Tropic Thunder which he just loves.

"Tell your diary friends to see this movie," he instructed me.

Okay.

So go see the movie.

It was funny enough. I don't think it's as hilarious as Tom found it though.

My feet were killing me at that point. I had on high heels, which I hate. And I can't walk in properly.

You know how some women can just glide in them and go click click click as they walk?

I don't glide. I end up stomping and my sound is all CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP.

Tom said he knew when I was coming by the way I walked.

I hate high heels.