...from ever taking a photo of me again.
I don't get it. Y is good at literally everything else. Re-wiring lamps. Trivia. Debating. Cooking. Making things out of wood. Gymnastics. Pulling my car out when it's stuck in ice. Fixing anything that could ever need fixing. Baking bread. Doctoring.
But, while he might be excelling at saving other people's lives, he can't take a photo of me to save his life.
Last weekend, we went to a real winner of a coffeeshop. The staff was rude, the wi-fi sucked, my chai tasted like milk. Its one saving grace was a neon green mural of Minneapolis. Like any good blogger would, I asked Y to take a photo of me in front of it. How could I possibly deny my faithful readers a good Minneapolis photo op?
You can guess how it turned out. But let me pause at this point in the story to tell you that everyone else who has taken my picture has been successful.
Like my nurse friend, who hadn't slept all night and took this picture of me wrangling an adorable squirming baby at 8 am:
Or a random stranger at a dimly lit bar with a Paleolithic Era cell phone (That might be a tad dramatic. It was an iphone 3. But Siri wasn't around in the Paleolithic Era OR the iphone 3 era, which leads me to believe they are the same...)
Or the self timer on my camera, which, need I remind you, IS AN INANIMATE OBJECT:
Sweet, simple, Y. Who is probably wishing we were married in Paleolithic times, where self expression was limited to cave walls (and no one acted all high and mighty for eating Paleo).
I'm so thankful for this memory of that subpar coffeeshop with the awesome mural.
HAHAHAHAHAHA. oh, poor y. but mostly poor you :)
ReplyDeleteHAHAHAAH! Jake has to take 17 pictures of me before I get one good one. :) I totally get it!
ReplyDeleteMaybe we should send our husbands away on a photography workshop, because Russ is the SAME WAY. It's exhausting. I ask him to take a photo, he does, I look at it, wonder HOW he captured what he did, and ask (ok, tell) him to try again. Then he gets mad because I'm not happy with any of them (because they are all blurry, my head chopped off, etc) and we end up with no photo.
ReplyDeleteWhat I'm trying to say is, I feel your pain.
My husband is in incapable of taking a good photo of me as well. I'm embarrassed to admit it's actually caused arguments, in which I usually snap "how are you so bad at this? maybe you should take a photography class!" Yeah... blogging makes me crazy sometimes.
ReplyDeleteThis definitely causes arguments over here, too. Usually ending with "HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT MAYBE YOU'RE JUST UGLY?"
Delete...well, have you?
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DeletePlease tell me you rescued your day ruined by the bad coffee shop by walking up the block to The Baker's Wife and getting a baked good. It doesn't matter what you get, it's all delicious. The cake donuts are particularly fabulous, they're fresh and light and like no other donut I've ever eaten.
ReplyDeleteWe didn't, but I have had their donuts before! You're right, they were pretty awesome. Mmm... you've reminded me to go there again, mysterious unknown commenter.
DeleteMy intention was not to be mysterious. I was forced to choose an account to post with so I went with google and "Unknown" came up when it was published. The most important thing, though, is not my unknown nature but that you've been to The Baker's Wife and eaten their donuts.
Delete- Laura W.
This is too, too funny :)
ReplyDeleteAH, I know the feeling. Both my boyfriend AND my dad have this complete inability to EVER include your feet in a picture! So now I have all these pictures that would be amazing with beautiful scenery.. with NO FEET! Cut off at the ankles! How hard can it be??
ReplyDeleteThat's hilarious, and you aren't alone--it's the same with my husband, but he's getting better!!!
ReplyDelete