For reasons either physical, intentional, or psychological, my husband cannot take a decent photo. Like the boy who dances to his own drum, it's as if he's smiling at a different camera lens...
|example a (ridiculous, I know)|
On occasion, I can successfully capture an image of Matt where his eyes are looking the correct direction, but then it seems his mouth malfunctions.
See what I mean?
|Then he subtly snuck out the tongue.|
I've now accepted there's nothing to be done about my non-photogenic husband. I continue to snap his picture for the rare occasion when I actually capture a keepsake photo. Sadly, through all this snapping away, I have discovered a horrible, tragic truth. My daughter, as well, has inherited his condition.
I sent a whopping three photographs to my sister to frame. It looks as though there will be no memorial erected in our honor; no real contribution to Craig's desolate walls. Since it's not often someone asks for a picture of us to go on their wall, I asked Matt one last time to give me his best effort. On the count of three....