Thursday, October 22, 2009

Photos On The Fly

Whenever I'm home, I get a chorus of three boys asking, "Can I use your camera Aunt Salena?" Try and split two cameras between three kids. It doesn't happen. So one of them usually has to be lured away from the camera with the promise of games on my iPod. Whatever works to keep them all occupied is how I look at it.

I let them take pictures of whatever they want. I never say no and I never ask them what they are photographing. My only rule is that they put the strap around their neck so they don't drop the camera. And they all know the rule so well, I usually don't even have to repeat it.

Unless they ask me to look at what they just shot, I never even think to check the pictures until I get back home and upload them to the computer. I'm usually never surprised at what they take; their feet, the water in the toilet, plants, dirt outside, stuffed animals on their bed, a pencil. Some of them are actually decent enough that I've used
one or two on the blog.

But the shot I always get, the one that never fails to be there, is a picture of one of them taking a photo of the other one, usually with cameras in hand, just like above. This one was taken in a moving car, on the way to the pumpkin patch. I know who took it and I know who's in it.

They can't hide anything from me, although they've tried, each claiming "I didn't take that one" at some point over the years. They can't even avoid the fact that I know the fake "contacts" on my iPod were put there by whoever had it last. I know they are responsible for those entries because I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone named Poopie Pants Johnson.

I'm also pretty sure I know exactly which one of them does.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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