Macho up that baby
The baby boy was beautiful, just gorgeous, with big, soulful brown eyes that were deep enough to drown a whole camera crew of full-grown women, which they damned near did.
He was such a mellow little guy as we fussed and clucked and cooed over him during the photo shoot, unashamedly making asses of ourselves in the presence of his quiet yet overwhelming air of Cute Enough to Kill Us All. His willingness to endure all our poses and prop changes only made us all love him more, and we were all a bit sad when the session was done and we had to relinquish the little fellow to his mom and grandmother.
After the lethally adorable pictures were transferred to the computer, mom and grandma came over to review the set with us, to make that most difficult choice of which poses would be purchased and which would be left in the bit bucket. My heart did a double flip when we came to what was undoubtedly my favorite image in the whole batch: Baby Boy with a soft blue blanket draped over his head, framing his cherubic face. We all simultaneously squealed in delight, a collective squeal that caused all the windows in the store to shatter, and all the car alarms in the parking lot to begin sounding.
Well, grandma didn't squeal. Grandma was the lone voice of dissent on what was, to my mind, the genius picture of the day. We were all genuinely confused, and wanted to know why she didn't love the blankie picture like we did.
"I don't like it," she repeated. "He looks like the Virgin Mary."
Okay, that was completely unexpected and hilarious. All of us broke up with laughter, and I figured that this would go down as the quote of the day. But grandma wasn't done yet.
"No, really," she continued. "He looks like a faggot!"
OH, NO, SHE DI'IN'T! But yeah, she did. This woman had just used the word "faggot" when describing a photo of her mega-cute infant grandson.
Needless to say, they didn't purchase that particular shot. It had kinda been ruined for the mom at that point.
When they come back in to get their finished pictures, I am so tempted to give that boy a tiny purse. For grandma's sake.
He was such a mellow little guy as we fussed and clucked and cooed over him during the photo shoot, unashamedly making asses of ourselves in the presence of his quiet yet overwhelming air of Cute Enough to Kill Us All. His willingness to endure all our poses and prop changes only made us all love him more, and we were all a bit sad when the session was done and we had to relinquish the little fellow to his mom and grandmother.
After the lethally adorable pictures were transferred to the computer, mom and grandma came over to review the set with us, to make that most difficult choice of which poses would be purchased and which would be left in the bit bucket. My heart did a double flip when we came to what was undoubtedly my favorite image in the whole batch: Baby Boy with a soft blue blanket draped over his head, framing his cherubic face. We all simultaneously squealed in delight, a collective squeal that caused all the windows in the store to shatter, and all the car alarms in the parking lot to begin sounding.
Well, grandma didn't squeal. Grandma was the lone voice of dissent on what was, to my mind, the genius picture of the day. We were all genuinely confused, and wanted to know why she didn't love the blankie picture like we did.
"I don't like it," she repeated. "He looks like the Virgin Mary."
Okay, that was completely unexpected and hilarious. All of us broke up with laughter, and I figured that this would go down as the quote of the day. But grandma wasn't done yet.
"No, really," she continued. "He looks like a faggot!"
OH, NO, SHE DI'IN'T! But yeah, she did. This woman had just used the word "faggot" when describing a photo of her mega-cute infant grandson.
Needless to say, they didn't purchase that particular shot. It had kinda been ruined for the mom at that point.
When they come back in to get their finished pictures, I am so tempted to give that boy a tiny purse. For grandma's sake.
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 10:40 AM
12 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
She's going to infect that sweet child with her fear, isn't she? That's how it starts, and carries over from one generation to another. Can we just be done with it already? Let babies be babies, let people be people. Can we stay out of the babies' bedrooms at least?? How 'bout everyone else's too. Gahwd.
I give up. I just wrote a bunch, mostly to do with kicking the grandma's ass and selling the baby's picture, making him famous . . . *sigh*. It's just so sad.
My wish for the baby mama is that she will have the courage and good sense to stand up to grandma as she tries to raise her little guy.
(I would have wanted to exclaim to gran, "The Virgin Mary was a faggot?! Who knew!?")
Our sisters have already said all the good stuff here. I had to read it aloud to Ichabod so he had a good laugh, too. Mebbe we should all pray for grandma's soul. ;-)
WOW. People are SO goofy and opinionated. I'd be tempted to photoshop the color of the blanket to a lovely shade of pink and 'accidentally' slip it in with their pictures.
But that's me.
Or, you could photoshop the baby's face into a Rambo poster and give her that.
Eclectic - Yeah, it's not like we put a pink blanket and a tiara on him. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Susie - I actually thought that, but since I want to keep my job and not get my ass smacked down by a grandma, I bit my tongue.
Squirl - It was a story that needed to be told.
CKelli - probably a lot of the reason they don't let us have Photoshop at work...
Deodand - I hope it would be manly enough for grandma. Maybe if we posed him with a gutted pig...
She said...what???
What did she want, a camoflage blankie and a deer rifle? War paint on his face? A bit of chew in between his chubby widdle cheek and gum? A five o'clock shadow and a cigarette? Honestly, what gives?
Let the baby be. Damn it!
(This rant was brought to you by an auntie whose own niece and nephew had camo outfits for photos one year...but secretly has photos somewhere of nephew prancing around in girls pajamas, wearing bracelets, girl slippers and a tiara...don't ask, I'll deny everything.)
For the benefit of soulful brown-eyed little tyke, I hope his mother moves away from grandma witch. Like maybe to Australia or New Zealand. The greater the distance the better for the little fellow.
That is just so depressing.
Grandma, got runned over by a reindeer...
Apparently Granny has been listening to her copy of Double Live Gonzo a little too much.
Anything over one spin per year equals "too much."
Personally I've whittled it down to about once every five years and yet I still feel guilty.
What?! They don't let you have Photoshop at work?! Pfft. I don't know if I could work under those conditions...
PS - I go away for a whole week and you don't post at all?! Sheesh. What kind of operation are you runnin' here? ;)
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