Let me tell you a little story about Saturday’s mini sessions (I’m feeling verbose tonight-you’ve been warned). We’ve held holiday mini sessions for a few years now, and they’ve always gone off without a hitch. Perfect. In every. single. way.
Except Saturday.
To start…Maggie was set for our 8:00 slot. She was actually scheduled for a full-on session, so we set aside an hour and a half in order to photograph her. Except then she got sick. And steroids made her worse. And I went to bed early the night before and missed the phone calls and emails letting me know that 8:00 wasn’t happening.
(which I didn’t get until after waking with the alarm and showering/dressing/FIXING MY HAIR! (this is huge, people…if the blow dryer and flatiron come out, you know I mean business!).
So I looked cute and worked on a few sessions while waiting for time to pass so I could head to the park for Debbie’s family session.
I was there right on time. I forgot my cell (which I *never* do. Never. It was the second sign that I should have stayed in bed).
At exactly 9:02 I saw a minivan that I thought looked just like Debbie’s pass right by me and drive the wrong way up a one way street. Which clients do all the time…and is usually not an issue. Except today (cue scary music).
They were pulled over. Then three more police cars arrived because Debbie’s husband apparently used to live in Ohio and has an expired license. Except he has always lived in Texas…do you see where this is going?
All this was going on behind the trees, so I couldn’t see a thing. 9:10. 9:20. 9:25…where the heck are they? I’d call, but that would require a cell phone.
A minor detail…
They pull up at 9:30, slightly stressed and harried, and right on time for the NEXT session to start. But it was fine, because my 9:30 was nowhere to be found.
So we thought we’d start and see what we got before the next session arrived. A little nugget of information you might find interesting…Deb’s son Ben is a little sensitive. He was raring to go at 9:00. But after half an hour of interrogation by the police, he was ready to go back home and get far, far away from me and my camera.
Which is why I have lots of this face:
Can’t you feel the joy?
(psssst! See Deb’s little belly up there? Sugar is about to grow by two more feet (neither of which are going to be mine!). Twins! Be extra nice to her when you come in for your ordering session…I’m just sayin’ )
Of course, Deb’s little girl, Hannah, was completely into her session. Shy? Hannah? Never!
So…back to my story. We ‘finish’ Deb’s session (And by finish, I mean that Deb’s head was about to spin around with all the negotiating she was doing to get Ben to cooperate. And by cooperate, I mean look at the camera.).
Clue 3 that I should have stayed in bed.
So we finish the session, and my sweet 9:30 session arrives at 10:00 (the mapquest link we gave them was to a different park, that I never shoot at, so I have NO idea how that happened).
That would be Clue 5.
Of course, they tried to CALL…
They arrive at 10. And guess who’s right on time? Yup, my 10:00! Who came all the way from Tyler!
Thankfully, they were super sweet, and agreed to give us 20 minutes to do Hopper’s session. Which was really 10 minutes more than we needed…he was such a beaming, happy little guy, right of the bat.
Pretty sure I could eat him up.
And his mommy? Pregnant as well. It’s in the water! (and you can keep that stuff to yourselves!)
Our oh-so-patient 10:00 session began at 10:20, and it was the perfect way to end such a crazy morning. Brittany and I started discussing her outfit, and when she said (with a big, dramatic sigh) “FINALLY! Someone that understands fashion!” I knew we were going to have a good time.
Little brother Dillon was not as pesky as Brittany said he would be. He was actually completely cute, a ton of fun, and easy to work with. He also had some ideas on how to take a “cool” photograph. Case in point:
And so-my crazy morning ended with these two little lovebugs. Fashion savvy sister and ‘cool’ but ‘pesky’ little brother. Who could ask for more?
Don’t worry-this isn’t the last you’ll see of photophobic Ben. We’re going to try this again (maybe without the police escort), and I know we’ll have a completely different experience.
I hope.
If not, I’m moving to Ohio.
