Picture Day

That single moment in time that marks an entire year in your academic history. I remember picture day from my childhood. Picking out the perfect outfit, making sure my hair was just so. Looking back there are a few pictures that needed to be burned, some very bad fashion and hair choices on my part. However, some of the best school pictures come from when we are still young. When mom helps pick out the outfit and makes sure every hair is in place. Sure there were missing teeth but those are the best pictures.

Yesterday was Picture Day for No. 1 Son and Surfer Dude. It would be Surfer Dudes first official school picture. I have been planning this day since last year. Last year No.1 Son made is kindergarten picture début wearing a crisp white oxford with a navy sweater vest proudly displaying the schools emblem. He was so handsome! So, of course this year would be a repeat of last but for Surfer Dude.

Monday night I carefully laid out the boys clothes so there would be no confusion to what was to be worn. Tuesday morning arrives and there is some kind of noise coming from the boys’ room. Daddy-O comes back in to our room and asks if Surfer Dude has to wear the outfit. I said yes. A few moments pass and surfer Dude is curled in a ball against my dresser make some kind of noise which resembles a cat in heat and an out of tune violin. Intermittently and practically inaudible punctuated by the words too cold and too scratchy. People, the sound he makes when he is upset is like nails on a chalkboard to the 10^th power. I plead a little, beg a little, and cringe a lot, no luck. He is not going to stop making that noise as long as he is wear the oxford and sweater vest. I say in my most calm voice, “If you just say ‘Mommy, I don’t want to wear this.’ in your big boy voice you can change.” And then I leave the room because he continues to make the sound.

He eventually appears at the breakfast table wearing uniform shorts and a long sleeved red polo. At least he is dressed… Oh, and the back of his hair is standing up like Alfalfa from The Little Rascals.

No. 1 Son arrives at the breakfast table wear the nice white polo I laid out for him but not the shorts. He decides he will wear pants. This would not normally be a problem except for the fact that they are way, way, way to short! And he is wearing white sock, black shoes and navy pants. Beautiful! I have longer pants for him however, he WON’T put them on. And his hair is standing up too! At least when he drops is cream cheese bagel on his shirt this morning no one will be able to tell.

Picture Day did not go according to my plan. I guess I did not plan as well as I thought I had. So, as the boys left the house I said a little prayer that their hair would lay down, that No. 1 Son would be standing behind someone else for the class picture, and that all pictures would be taken before lunch. Because what did the boys want for lunch that day, pasta covered in red sauce!