in the mailIt's Christmas card time. I'm behind. WAAAAAY behind. I made my poor mother come over not once, but TWICE to capture a wonderful picture of me and Oozey for the Christmas card.
We started out at the bannister:
Oozey wanted nothing to do with her usual favorite spot...so we brought in Frank as a pinch-hitter. That didn't go very well either. He was trying to get down so he could go pee in his favorite corner...
"You're squishing me. I only want to pee a little. I promise."
After Frank went back out, someone decided to get on the banister:
Hmmm. Maybe some eggnog will encourage her to smile for the camera:
Nope. Just makes me look like a glutton for drinking straight out of the carton.
Which I NEVER do.
You know what? Let's just move on from that. We FINALLY thought we'd gotten the shot:
...only the setting on the camera wasn't right and it's WAY too grainy. Shirley and I gave up. But we didn't cry - even though I think we both wanted to. We're grown ups like that. Oozey pouted for a while:
So I got home from work today and we decided to try again. Here's the test shot:
Then we moved on to an Oozey shot. Mama thought she looked raccoon-ish here, so we abandoned the banister once and for all:
We tried under the Christmas tree. I brought out the bird in an attempt to lure her into the frame:
But she figured me out.
"You are ridiculous. And I am above this. And you really need to vacuum."
This next one worked in my head. Not so much in real life.
(I'm holding a treat behind baby Jesus' head.)
We went back to the chair. Now the treat's in my ear.
I can't believe I just admitted that.
Then Oozey jumped down and got back under the Christmas tree. So Mama took a picture of me. I think it's quite good, considering we were both on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
And that's where I'll leave you. We DID get a Christmas card picture...but you'll have to watch your mailbox for that one.
In conclusion, my mother is a saint.