David’s New Toy

It’s exactly one week before David and I board a plane headed south to Easter Island.  We have said for years that when we get all our children out of the house and out of college we want to travel.  We each have a list of our top ten places we want to see before we die.  When both of our fathers developed Alzheimer’s, we decided we better get on the stick.

A few days ago, David asked me if I would be mad if he bought a new camera.  Of course, this sounds like David is completely hen pecked if you don’t know that he just bought the “I just have to have this” new digital camera before we went to Egypt in September.  Since he is a fully functioning adult male with a good day job of his own, it seems ridiculous that he would even ask.  I think it’s just a game he plays to make me feel in the loop.  I’m pretty sure the half a dozen golf clubs hiding  under his side of the bed didn’t get passed through the Allen family finance committee either.  So off he went to the store and purchased his new camera.

I am now in paparazzi hell.  If you sit still for five seconds, David will be there with his camera honing the fine art of its various settings.  When I am working in my office, all I can hear is the shutter clicking away as he takes picture after picture.  Have I mentioned, just like most people, I really don’t like to have my picture taken when I’m posed and know I have my best face on, much less when I am working on something complicated and have my faces scrunched up in a fierce scowl.  In an effort to divert attention away from me I have sacrificed his mother.  Yep, I pulled out the “your mother would love to see you work your new camera” card faster than a gunslinger flopping down four aces in dusty saloon.  Mom, of course, was thrilled to have David regale her with all his new found knowledge and I was left in peace to scowl at will.  Once David wore out his parents, he moved on to the dogs.  We can have anywhere from one to five dogs in our house at any given time.  Now I have some amazing pictures of my grand puppies and Fred, of course.

Sitting in bed this morning getting my wake up kisses from Fred, I hear the shutter start clicking again.  Ok, isn’t it bad enough that he is taking my picture as I stomp down the hallway to the back office, scowl at my computer screen and glare at my pork ribs for not cooking fast enough?  Do we actually need a picture of me first thing in the morning, sitting in my less than flattering PJ’s, before makeup, but most of all before I finish my first cup of coffee?  Maybe I better be careful about what I write about him in the future.  Like they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

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