For Father’s Day this Sunday, my husband handed me an easy win by requesting a new photo of the kids for his desk. Don’t you love it when life hands you lemonade? Talk about a cheap and cheerful gift which could have been so simple if I’d only chosen an existing photo and picked up a nice frame. No, that would be too easy.
I love the word ‘rad’ and when I figured out it rhymed with ‘dad’ (I’m a wordsmith I tell you – clever as hell) I knew I could make a really… rad photo. It was easy enough to grab the kids when they were already in ‘nice clothes’ for a party, but then came the hard part. Trying to get them to sit still, holding little signs which read ‘Our Dad’ and ‘Is Rad’ was impossible, kind of like trying to herd cats… into a bath… using angry dogs… you get my point.
My vision: Two beaming beauties, perfectly placed in lovely light, looking right at the camera, holding their signs straight as arrows. The picture would be in focus.
What I got: Two brawling kids, screwed up faces, one sign biffed on the floor and the other facing the wrong way. Tears from the little one, an angry storm-off and door slam from the big one. Blurry as hell.
For my second attempt, I decided that expecting siblings to act like they loved each other was asking too much. I would shoot them individually and find a nice double frame. Why, that would be even more rad!
This worked with Henry who loves ‘saying cheese’ and pulling faces like a loon. I only had to catch him between “special” facials and I had captured a lovely little boy looking right at the camera like a champ.
Annie remained a nightmare of epic proportions and threw what we call a “classic Annie tanty”. All 50 photos came out like an ad aimed at putting teens off getting pregnant. Red face, angry scowl, hands out to push away the camera, she was clearly trying to say “I hate you Mum”.
Looking over the disastrous photo shoots, I was tempted to print out one of the shockers for Tim. If I’m honest, they probably depict our little angels more accurately than the vision I had in mind. Then it dawned on me that this Father’s Day gift is going on his desk at work and a horror shot might put him off coming home when 5pm rolls around each day. Back to the drawing board. So much for lemonade.