I know this sounds bad but at this point I’m left to hoping my three youngest children don’t really amount to much. Hey, I’m a good Dad. I hope they have good, fulfilling, happy, and holy lives but just not in any great historical way.
The reason I’m left to hoping this is that if any of my three youngest do anything worthy of a historical documentary I’m warning you now that there may be zero photographic evidence that they existed other than a class picture or two or perhaps they may appear in the background of another family’s photos.
You see, the batteries in our video camera were in there so long they melted into some kind of brown ooze. And pictures? Well, we lost the wire that connects the digital camera to the computer so they’re kind of stuck in there. And besides, most of the pictures in that thing were probably taken by the babies who regularly used the camera as a pretend phone so I can’t really vouch for the quality of those pictures. We’ve got about 15 disposable cameras rotting in a drawer in the living room but they’ve been there a while. I mean a long while. So long that I think one of them is of my Little League game.
My first child was photographed. A lot. So if she wants to do something publicly great with her life that would be great. But since her…I’ve been not so great about photographs.
Hey, the truth is that they all pretty much look alike so maybe I could just tell the documentary guys that the picture I’m giving them is the kid they’re looking for. Maybe they’ll never know.
Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn’t have written this post.