Last week, we planned to have Harper's baby portraits taken. As I've said before, she did NOT want to cooperate. I told you that she cried, wiggled, fussed, etc. We were all stressed out trying to get her to work with us. She just wouldn't have it!
In all the crying, Kevin got called into the station for a grass fire. He had to leave immediately. But he had brought all of his gear home for the pictures (you'll see what I mean soon). So we were all scrambling around the house rounding up all of his gear as he loaded it into the truck.
He kissed Harper and I goodbye and took off. Keep in mind, Harper is still screaming and crying at this point. And I, who intended to be in some of the shots, am covered in puke.
When he got in his truck he saw the photographer, Anna's, car parked behind him. And instead of asking her to move it, he decided to maneuver around it. Just as he was almost clear, CRUNCH goes the gas meter.
So now we have a crying baby, a puke covered mama, a ticked off daddy, an overwhelmed photographer, and a leaking gas meter.
It was about this point that we decided to reschedule our photo session.
As always, everything worked out in the end: the next day's photo session was 100 times better, Kevin was home by dark, my clothes are wash & wear, the gas man fixed the meter and agreed not to record the leak on our bill (due to minimal brown-nosing on my part) and we have all agreed not to mention or look at the scratch on Kevin's truck.
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