Holiday pictures are lovely but oh the preparation. Picture this: Grandest is wearing a sparkly red velveteen dress trimmed in white faux fur, white tights and party shoes; Daughter is dressed in a white suit looking absolutely yum, and then there’s Gracie, their Chocolate Labrador Retriever with a red jingle bells collar. And then there’s me, who started out looking swell but too soon worn out with placating Poppa who dislikes being a part of the scene. Not the ideal scenario.
We wait. My job is to restrain Gracie, the eager big dog, play hide and go seek with grandest and the dog while impatient husband rolls his blue eyes until finally I say, “Go home. Daughter will drive me when it’s over.” Hours go by as we play, take pics, daughter makes final selections. The store closes. The mall is almost locked up.
Finally we find an exit and I’m home fifteen minutes later, eyes half closed. Did I mention daughter had to carry big dog on the moving escalator because said pooch was frightened? Three flights up and down? Oh yes!
Next year we’ll take pictures at home. I vote for that.