The Power of a Hat
My Julia has had a gazillion photographs taken of her by me, her mother, the cheapest photographer I know. Sometimes I get the picture you have all seen kids take—the smile that looks like, well, not a smile at all—just a curved line of lips with squinted eyes and then, sometimes you get the stuff happiness is made of. Mind you, these are on her schedule only. You get no forewarning.
One weekend in May, we took one of our “mini vacations” to Eagle Mountain Lake and as we were putting the last things in the back of the car, Julia grabs my hat and starts a photo shoot—without camera and photographer (hardly anything frustrates me more). I scrambled to dig to the bottom of the trunk and pulled out my camera to catch, what turned out to be, some really great pictures.
Same thing happened a few weeks later on St. George Island while vacationing with our extended family. I took her down to the beach to take some pictures and a few minutes into it, she asks for my hat. I gave it to her. She put it on and it was like a switch was flipped and off she went. What she calls herself doing, I do not know. What I do know is that she is good at it. As her mother, of course, I think she is adorable yet at the same time I can’t help wonder what does this little switch means 10 years from now. I know I don’t have to figure that out so for now I have chosen to remember that she is 5 and is completely enjoying being 5.
One weekend in May, we took one of our “mini vacations” to Eagle Mountain Lake and as we were putting the last things in the back of the car, Julia grabs my hat and starts a photo shoot—without camera and photographer (hardly anything frustrates me more). I scrambled to dig to the bottom of the trunk and pulled out my camera to catch, what turned out to be, some really great pictures.
Same thing happened a few weeks later on St. George Island while vacationing with our extended family. I took her down to the beach to take some pictures and a few minutes into it, she asks for my hat. I gave it to her. She put it on and it was like a switch was flipped and off she went. What she calls herself doing, I do not know. What I do know is that she is good at it. As her mother, of course, I think she is adorable yet at the same time I can’t help wonder what does this little switch means 10 years from now. I know I don’t have to figure that out so for now I have chosen to remember that she is 5 and is completely enjoying being 5.
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