When Tragedy Strikes
I want to ask you a question. This is important, so pay attention.
What would you do if you found yourself at your daughter's ballet class (which is filled with adorable once-in-a-lifetime moments) only to discover you have forgotten your camera at home?
I know, its a difficult question to even face. Well, I am here to tell you that I not only faced this tragedy in real life, I survived it. This is my story.
The day started out normally enough, if a bit rushed. There was breakfast for the girls and a latte for me. Phillip skipped both because he is made out of jetfighters and punching. I dressed the girls as I do every Wednesday, never dreaming how everything was about to change.
Ballet tights and leotards on, I styled their hair in the professional hairdressers station we installed when we first learned we were having a second girl. We loaded up the diaper bag with water bottles and snacks, and then loaded up the car with our children and their bad attitudes. Actually the bad attitudes had to go in the trunk because they were so humongous that we couldn't manage to squeeze them into the car itself.
We dropped Phillip off at work, the girls gave him sweet ballerina kisses goodbye, and we continued on our merry way. We soon arrived at Fairytales and Tutus for the girls' weekly ballet lesson. I unloaded everyone and everything out of the car, except the bad attitudes which were left to sweat it out in the trunk, and got the girls squared away with their ballet shoes.
It was then that I then reached into my purse looking for the camera so I could put it into my handy dandy camera hip holster, which I use to quickly point and shoot on demand. Sometimes I even shoot from the hip, like an old school Western gun slinger. CLICK! SNAP! POW!
Except it wasn't there.
As I began to frantically dig around in desperation, I could feel myself swaying unsteadily and the room begin to spin. This could not be happening. What would I do with no camera?
A lady that looked remarkably ostrich-esque asked me if I were alright. "My cameraaaaaa," I moaned like a lost soul. Ostrich lady just stared at me. Like this:
My whole world was crashing down around me, and all she could do was stare unsympathetically??? I couldn't believe this was happening to me. But it did. And it can happen to you too.
Be warned, all ye hectic moms. If you remember nothing else from this post, other than the ostrich stare, remember this: When you are done downloading pictures off your camera, always, always, always put it back in your purse!
What would you do if you found yourself at your daughter's ballet class (which is filled with adorable once-in-a-lifetime moments) only to discover you have forgotten your camera at home?
I know, its a difficult question to even face. Well, I am here to tell you that I not only faced this tragedy in real life, I survived it. This is my story.
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| Ivy, in the rôle of Ariel, on a day that I remembered to bring my camera |
Ballet tights and leotards on, I styled their hair in the professional hairdressers station we installed when we first learned we were having a second girl. We loaded up the diaper bag with water bottles and snacks, and then loaded up the car with our children and their bad attitudes. Actually the bad attitudes had to go in the trunk because they were so humongous that we couldn't manage to squeeze them into the car itself.
We dropped Phillip off at work, the girls gave him sweet ballerina kisses goodbye, and we continued on our merry way. We soon arrived at Fairytales and Tutus for the girls' weekly ballet lesson. I unloaded everyone and everything out of the car, except the bad attitudes which were left to sweat it out in the trunk, and got the girls squared away with their ballet shoes.
It was then that I then reached into my purse looking for the camera so I could put it into my handy dandy camera hip holster, which I use to quickly point and shoot on demand. Sometimes I even shoot from the hip, like an old school Western gun slinger. CLICK! SNAP! POW!
Except it wasn't there.
As I began to frantically dig around in desperation, I could feel myself swaying unsteadily and the room begin to spin. This could not be happening. What would I do with no camera?
A lady that looked remarkably ostrich-esque asked me if I were alright. "My cameraaaaaa," I moaned like a lost soul. Ostrich lady just stared at me. Like this:
My whole world was crashing down around me, and all she could do was stare unsympathetically??? I couldn't believe this was happening to me. But it did. And it can happen to you too.
Be warned, all ye hectic moms. If you remember nothing else from this post, other than the ostrich stare, remember this: When you are done downloading pictures off your camera, always, always, always put it back in your purse!
LOL, that pic is so well placed.
ReplyDeletelol ostrich lady. i always have my phone so at least i can use the camera feature. i'm sorry mama. this has happened to me several times. especially when austin does something super cute!
ReplyDeleteoh, you poor thing....
ReplyDeleteGood reminder. I too have been caught without, even though my yearly pic output is tremendous there are always events worth preserving.
ReplyDeleteHi...I was just thinking of the comment you left. I am the mother of 3 boys, and grew up without a dad. Your comment made me think, what do you hope your husband will be as a father for your daughter? what is important for a girl to have in a father? what does a wife hope that her husband will provide for their girl? these are all things I will never know about, having boys...jut got me thinking of your world.
ReplyDeleteEmpress, great questions.. I will go and comment the answers to these on your blog!
ReplyDeleteDrea, you know very well what to do if you don't have a camera. As our oh so wise Father once said on a camping trip decades ago... "Packashit for the future!" Duh.
ReplyDelete