You know the photo - this or a thousand like it is inevitably coming soon to a Facebook feed (as destined for "STFU, Parents" glory) near you:
|Note my inadvertent rude hand gesture to the photographer - the cherry on this ill-advised sundae.|
Nothing says motherly love like foisting your stranger-averse child onto the lap of a bearded stranger, right? Or, failing that, joining the photo and grimacing a smile as you attempt to coerce a grin or, at least, stop the toddler tears long enough for a decent shot?
My intentions were good, at least. We'd skipped the Santa photos last year thanks to the aforementioned nursing/colic blur, so when I heard of a local pet charity doing them last weekend, we donned our festive apparel and naively headed out. I mean, aren't parents supposed to do this sort of thing?
At least the Pretty Pug had a good time. We'll just take him next year and every year after that until Master P opts into the deal and/or enters college, whichever one comes later . . .