We took our annual trip down to my parents’ for the 4th of July last week. (Isn’t it funny that you can call something an “annual” occurrence once you’ve done it twice??) This year was much less hot– but no less humid!– than last, and I was disappointed how, yet again, the weather betrayed me. However, we found lots to do with several home-furnishing trips to Ikea, relaxing at home with my parents, and hosting Tyler’s parents for the last few days. We capped it all off with a Saturday wedding reception attended by many of my parents’ dear friends, some of whom I’ve known as long as I can remember. My mother planned and pulled it off spectacularly, and we really appreciated the support shown from my Southern kinfolk.
But before that little party actually came together, my mother had other projects too. It seems one other very important task that week was unloading on us the complete dossier concerning her eldest daughter, now married and no longer her parents’ legal responsibility. This purge included all documents that hadn’t already been passed on to me– report cards from all grades, medical records, bank statements, etc. And of course, every newspaper clipping and school photo of me. Oh and the orthodontist’s before and after photos. Yes, those. There is nothing that brings you to humility more than having your new husband gaze, for the first time, upon every stage of your young life. Thankfully, there was a disproportionate (in my favor) number of photos from the teen years, and I was not half bad as a wee one. But there were those two before and after photos. Nothing can soften that blow. Tyler, our kids better not inherent my mouth. That, or we better start saving for braces now.
I’m sure you all would love to get a glimpse of my awkward stage. Maybe not the teeth, but perhaps the 7th grade volleyball team photo? (There were bad decisions made that day, I tell you what. What was with tucking your shirt in only in the front? I mean, nothing will disguise the fact that the shirt’s too big. So get it in there all the way, or let it hang to your knees.)
Well, I hate to disappoint, but all those photos stayed down South, where they belong. I mean, no one thinks you’re more adorable than your own mother, right?
But to give you just a little something to smile at, here is our Hobbesy in his teen years, displaying a couple of trademark teen traits.
Looking caught off guard in, ironically, any staged picture:
Abd, bad decisions all around, but especially when sleep-related:
Hope you had a great 4th too!