I told you not to wear those pants today

There are certain of life's experiences that are great equalizers.  Death, giving birth (I figured this one out really quickly), leaving a restroom with your skirt tucked into your unders.  There is also - elementary school picture day.  A day when all children, regardless of circumstance, have the opportunity to look equally bad.

Take my niece,  for example.  Anyone that has met my sister's children knows that they are (as she likes to say) really, really, ridiculously good looking.  This particular niece has curly hair.  Nice ringletty curly hair.  The kind of curly hair that I, throughout much of my adolescense tried to achieve with bad perms and lots of mousse (that's right- mousse... and hairspray.)  It wasn't good.  Anyway, she's got the curly hair and my sister, (who is meticulous about the grooming of her children ) had it all cute and hippy-chic looking when she walked out the door on picture day.  Unfortunately-before making it to the photographer, my niece met with an over zealous picture-helper-volunteer-mom armed with a black Goody comb who, (again unfortunately) was not acquainted with "hippy-chic" nor with what happens to curly hair when you comb it.  She must've realized her mistake, and as a remedy to the frizzy mess perching a top my niece's head, decided to tuck the whole mess behind her ears.  Pretty.

A similar experience happened with  my sister's son last year  (different sister). His picture- helper- volunteer -mom succeeded in combing his bangs straight down, flat against his forehead  into a style vaguely resembling a blonde swim cap.  My sister now writes on the picture order form - "DO NOT COMB MY CHILD'S HAIR" - in her own blood probably.  I don't know if she's asked them to refrain from giving her sons their own black Goody combs though.  (She has twins).  Personally, I would love to see a picture of one of those kids after 30 minutes standing in line, crammed up against 50 other 1st grade boys also armed with hard plastic combs- each comb with a degree of bendyness perfect for flicking your neighbor in the back of the head, and teeth close enough together, that when turned just right, gets good and stuck in the bangs.  That picture, my friends, would be a keeper.

Personally, I like the elementary school pictures that go a little awry.  Like when my sister (the one with the twins) accessorized her fancy picture dress with the handmade, multi-colored, wooden bead necklace that she snuck out of the house in her backpack.  It's one of my favorite images of her.  It tells a lot more about who she was when she was as a child than if that picture had turned out "perfect".  Hopefully, next week when picture day at our school roles around, my kids will come up with something that, even if it's not going to make it in the Holiday add for Gap Kids, will at least make me laugh.
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Happy Holmes said...

I may need to see this messssss. Who in their right mind would even touch those amazingly cute curls... I say no mother helper on picture day.

PS. I still wear mousse.

Amy Jo said...

I can't believe a lady tried to come her beautiful curly hair. I know how horrible that can end up!

Aimee said...

Endre, I'm enjoying reading your blog, thanks for the entertainment! And I totally hate picture day at school. I've given up and no longer even buy the pictures of my kids. If I want pictures of them, I'll take them to JC Penney and have full control over what their clothes and hair look like!


When Jake was in 2nd grade the pictures came home. I pulled them out of the envelope. Then I scarred him by laughing hysterically. On the floor. Holding my sides. Gasping for breath.

His eyes were open so wide there was white around the entire blue part. His hair was sticking straight up in the front AND in the back. And slicked down in between. He was growing in his front teeth, and one of his front teeth had come in sideways. But the best, the very best, was the smear of spaghetti sauce from his mouth to his ear. Where were the picture moms on THAT day I ask?

I did not have him do retakes. Because of the classicness. You just can't plan spaghetti sauce on your kid's face.

Jadie said...

Who can possibly top that last comment? I won't even try.