No, really. I totally remembered to take the fifth consecutive year of DAD photos for Father’s Day. (See years 1, 2, 3, and 4)
Just because I did it THE MORNING OF and still haven’t picked up the prints to put in a frame for M… OK, look, I’m really not as on top of things as I used to be. Can I blame the fact that I have three kids? Sure. Why not. Frankly, I consider it a minor miracle that I got a shot of Ellie smiling with the “A” visible and facing the right way. She only kept it there for about two seconds at a time, mostly it was tossed behind her by the time I got back to the other side of the quilt with my camera. In the meantime, please ignore the bruise on Rebecca’s cheek and the scrape on Daniel’s nose. It’s been a rough-and-tumble phase in this house, what can I say. I’m calling it “documentary realism.” I could also call it “my amateur Photoshop skills would probably only make it look worse, so I should just leave it.”
At any rate, a late-night Happy Father’s Day to all of the literal and honorary dads out there. Most especially the very real one who lives in this house. We love him to pieces, we are grateful for everything he does, and we’re glad he enjoyed his banana bread and apple juice in bed this morning, even though we know he would have rather just stayed asleep for the entire day.
