This is Real Life, Friends

A few days ago I connected with a local mom on an international Facebook group to buy something.  I knew exactly who she was, as I had met her a few times before at some kids’ events; I could see her face in her profile picture.

I, however, do not use my own face in my Facebook profile.  When this woman answered the door she was surprised to learn that it was indeed me (someone she had met) that she was selling her item to.  She couldn’t tell, she said, who it was because I had a picture of Baby Brother as my profile picture.

Of course, getting back into the car, I mentioned this to my husband.  I told him that I couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken a picture of me; I was always the one taking pictures.

(And I honestly don’t remember to do that very much.)

His (very honest) retort:

“I do try to take pictures of you, but every time I do, you make a ridiculous face.”

Today, I tried to take a picture of Baby Brother’s “nonplussed face”, which is best taken when he is being held.  I think I proved my husband’s point:

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Also, please enjoy Bean’s photo bomb in the bottom right.  She was either imitating my face, or she is so hopelessly like her mother.

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