After church on Sunday, our older daughter snapped some photos of my husband and me. We never pose just nice. Here I am, aggressively pointing out that I’m taller than him in my heels.
And then I went goofy without him knowing.
He figured it out, though, right quick. Probably because our daughter was laughing.
At which point he went all “don’t touch me” on me, which is his MO.
And thus concluded our brief foray into the world of couples portrait photography.
The End.
P.S. Today’s his birthday and I’m celebrating it by not wrecking his life by making him build a whole freaking barn (a gift which was as overwhelming as it was extravagant and from which he is still recovering/reeling). Today, we’re celebrating with birthday bagels for breakfast, and burgers on the grill with the kiddos tonight.
This same time, years previous: barn cake, mushroom salt, Belper Knolle, fig walnut biscotti, home again, happy birthday, sweetie!, pasta with chicken, broccoli, and oven-roasted tomatoes, up and over.
