My one-year-long tradition is to have our Christmas picture taken over the Thanksgiving holiday, when we are with family. My sister Laura is pretty good with a camera, so she gets to be the lucky photographer. However, this year, I got a haircut that I didn’t like on the day before family pictures were scheduled. We took about 20 shots, and of course I hated them all.
So we found ourselves somewhat up a creek when the days of December began to tick by and I still didn’t have a picture to send out with the Christmas card (not sending one, by the way, was not an option). Since getting my picture taken ranks right up there with buying new sunglasses for showing off my insecure side, and since I respond to this insecurity by becoming somewhat picky and demanding, I didn’t want to impose the exasperating task of working the camera upon anyone that was not bound to me by blood.
Meanwhile, time marched on. Finally an solution presented itself in the form of my husband’s conveniently long arm. Last night, we got dressed up in our Christmas-card finery , sat in front of the tree, and Stephen proceeded to take the obligatory thirty pictures college-girl style, by stretching out his arm and aiming the camera lens in our direction. So of course, we got a few shots that cut off important parts of our heads, but we got a few winners, too. Next, we bundled up in coats and repeated the scene on the front porch, in front of my celebrated wreath.
I narrowed down the pictures to those that were most flattering of me and let Stephen go through the motions of helping me pick out our official picture. We chose one, and I proceeded to discover the wonders of Wal-Mart’s online photo store. In a mere two hours (okay, so the pages are slow to load), I had uploaded my self-cropped and edited photo onto the website, previewed the photo in several decorative card options, and placed my order. I can pick up our cards at the Wal-Mart in nearby H**o next week. Hooray for finished tasks!