Recently, a person I enjoy very much asked me how I ‘really’ was
these days. I told her the truth—I am no longer capable of responding to
external stimuli in an appropriate fashion. She quickly quipped back, “So, you’re
vacillating between laughing at the wrong time and craving to tell people to go
eff themselves?”
Yep, that sounds about right. Especially on the whole laughing at the
wrong time thing. Although, the more I think about it, the more I’ve come to
realize that even though terribly sad things are at the forefront of my life
right now, it doesn’t mean I cannot laugh.
Especially when Ant’s Spring Pictures bring much humor… Picture Day,
version 2.0-spring, was last week and all of a sudden, the child who would much
prefer to have his picture taken with his Green Lantern shirt on (TWO years in
a row. Hey, I don’t fight it—I want to remember them as they actually were) was
laying out a dress shirt on his bed.
A dress shirt.
This is the boy who could only be convinced to wear a dress shirt
to J’s cousin’s wedding if we let him wear the very visible Superman shirt
underneath it.
Okay, so we got a dress shirt out. Wait. We have Levis, a red and
black t-shirt, a tan and blue button-down shirt, and a ratty, brown hoodie
sweatshirt. These were the clothes he laid out on his bed right before he went
and VOLUNTARILY took a shower…
Huh. Okay. Whatever floats your boat, kid. I’ve always enjoyed
using your pictures as a conversation point with family. Namely, when your Nana
calls into question my parenting ability…
Now you may think that this; a ten year old boy exploring some
type of fashion sense—in and of itself—is pretty damn funny, but then again,
you didn’t see the resultant pictures. I cannot even show you the proof—Ant has
forbidden it. I am not even allowed to purchase them. I am allowed to talk
about it, though.
So let my words paint you a picture…
I picked up Ant from school that day, and asked 1) where the dress
shirt had gotten off to, and 2) how picture day had gone. He responded by
telling me the dress shirt was crammed at the bottom of his backpack now, and
the pictures were awful. In fact, he told me he looked like a ‘cowboy’, even
though Ms. Student Teacher and Ms. Teacher both had told him this wasn’t the
case.
So, naturally, I was intrigued. Ant is just about as photogenic as
I am (I don’t know how K ended up being photogenic at all), but I was doubting
the cowboy thing. Why would his teachers lie to him?
As soon as we got home, I pulled the proof from his backpack and
inspected the small two inch shot.
Kid totally looked like a cowboy, except that his shirt was
untucked and the position of the picture makes it look like he has no pants on,
so, perhaps he looks more like a cowgirl with a buzz cut…
That wasn’t the worst of it, though.
The backdrop is an aging, antique farm building of some variety.
It’s hard to tell if it’s a barn or a dilapidated shed or a Hooverville-Depression
shanty. In front of this backdrop is a large, broken wagon wheel and some tufts
of what I think is supposed to be wheat (but looks like dead ragweed), and my
son (in his tan and blue shirt/dress—BUSY CLASH) is situated right in the middle.
His discomfort is palpable. Someone has obviously told him to
stand up straight, and so he is damn-near bending backwards at the waist, and
has tried to push his head as far back on his neck as vertebrae will allow.
This has given him some type of no-neck thing going on, and since he is so
off-balance in this position, the hand that is supposed to be draped casually
over the wagon wheel is clinging, claw-like, to the prop. Except for the one finger
(which happens to be the middle finger) that he is inexplicably raising into
the air (and NOT in a flip-off, which, frankly, I would have looked the other
way on, but in more of a ‘high tea’ way). His eyes are wide, and obviously, there
is no smile.
It was the funniest damn thing I’ve seen in, oh, I don’t know how
long. Yep, I tried to control it, but I couldn’t help myself. I burst out
laughing at my child’s photogenic demise, right there in front of him, at the
dinner table. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. I laughed so hard K had to go
and get me a glass of water. I am laughing about this shit right now, as I write
it! Awkward Family Photos has NOTHING on this picture.
Also, before you send me my parenting award, I would like to point
out that J’s first reaction to said proof was, “WHOA!” and a slow clap. So, at
least I didn’t do that.
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