My Quirky Boy

It takes me almost 2 hours door to door from home to work. My routine to get everything together is still being adjusted, and I am totally exhausted. Fin asked me if he could take a picture while I was writing yesterday. I gave him the camera, which is not mine incidentally, made sure to put the strap on his wrist and set him free. The following is some of the results of his venture:

I love that everything is from Fin eye view, and they all seem to have this really great architectural feel. He so loves taking pictures, and when we remember we buy him Polaroid instant film. The bummer is that it is really expensive. Our old digital camera works just fine, but we are in the process of doing homework on an upgrade. We decided that after the transition into his new class if it goes well, we will give him the old digital to use as he wishes. My grandfather used to take pictures, my father did, and I went to an arts high school, and majored in photography on into college. Hubby and I have both decided to foster the interest as much as possible.

This one hubby took at supper:

Yes, yes, that is me pulling a marker out of my bra. Earlier in the day Fin was throwing markers at me, and so I took one and put it in my bra to remove it from his sight to stop the repeated pelting. Due to the fact that I am nursing, and to say that I am generously endowed at the moment is an understatement, the marker lay nestled in my cleveage for many hours. Actually, almost as soon as I put it there I forgot all about it. During dinner I was talking, put my hand on my chest, and felt it there, not recalling what the heck was in my bra. I reached in, pulled out an orange Crayola washable marker. This brought peals of laughter and delight to all sitting around the table. I am just glad I didn’t do it at work.