It's picture day today at school! What I love most about picture day is the certainty of it all. You see, I know on picture day two things are SURE to happen.
1) A child will loose a tooth the day before pictures are to be taken, thereby looking like one has just stumbled into her picture session from a bar fight. Put a beehive wig on my five year old right now and she could be Amy Winehouse post-rehab. Fortunately, and I kid you not, our school photographer now offers "retouching" for a $10 fee. (Of course, I just took the kids for their botox, so that probably won't be necessary.)
2) The other thing that's bound to happen is that I will forget it's picture day. Write it on the calendar, read the reminder notes from school - do everything imaginable to remember, and I will still forget.
Now this second inevitability has several ripple effects. Forgetting it's picture day will mean that I've forgotten to do laundry which means that my children will either be going to school in grocery bags or their Communion clothes. Seeing as we're Unitarians, our choices are reduced to paper or plastic.
Second, as was the case this morning, forgetting that it's picture day means I've lost motivation to remember to order more checks. (For those of you who have not yet entered the delightful realm of school pictures - you have to pay in advance. Because they know that your child looks like she just got into a bar fight and it's very likely you might not want to buy these photos after all of their hard work and they just don't roll that way.)
So, I'm left with ONE check in my checkbook and the Sophie's Choice of school pictures. The instructions are very clear - I CANNOT combine payments if I have more than one child at said school. Nor am I willing to write down my credit card number on the order form. Not that I don't trust people, but if I was a photog's assistant and had just spent 12 hours convincing runny-nosed kids to sit still and smile all for 8.50 an hour, those numbers would be lookin' pretty good to me.
As all things usually do, it all worked out in the end. I got out my pitchfork and dug up two respectable outfits from the laundry pile, forged my husband's signature on a couple of his checks from the account he uses to pay his grad school bills, and biked my kids to school where they ran to join the rest of the impeccably groomed children getting filthy on the playground.
It's all worth it knowing we will have photographic memories of these golden times forever.