Plan C

In my quest for another birthday week surprise, yesterday I picked up Robby from school and we headed to a local photo studio. I had a vision of presenting Scott with the perfect photo of the boys for his desk. With boy boys smiling broadly and striking  a lovingly adorable pose, the photo in my mind was something to behold. 

Driving to the mall, I stressed the importance of behaving and listening to the photographer.  Robby immediately chimed in that he was going to be the perfect muse. Timmy was quiet, but the cheerful smile on his face led me to hope that he was going to be the charming and obedient.  It never hurts to hope, right?

Timmy loves getting his photo taken, so I naively assumed that his desire to play to the camera would transfer.. I could not have been more wrong. He began to scream as soon as we entered the doors. Even Robby's attempt at soothing were in vain. My adorably coiffed cherub was a sweaty, disheveled, red-faced mess by the time the backdrop was arranged. 

In a brief moment of calm the photographer scrambled to try to capture my perfect moment. Unfortunately Timmy would not cooperate. I quickly saw my wonderful photo slipping away and began to scramble for plan B.  When plan B (Robby holding Timmy) failed with Timmy pulling Robby's hair and screaming in his face, we moved onto plan C.

I didn't come prepared for plan C, but desperate for a photo gift and frustrated that my plans were not coming to fruition, I obliged and stepped in front of the camera. I really wanted the photo to be of the boys, but instead Scott ended up with one of all three of us.