At last check, there are 825 photos of Elijah in our iphoto library. He’s nine months old, so that means on average he’s getting photographed 91 times per month. And that’s just the ones we’ve kept. Think about how many we’ve deleted. It boggles the mind. He have him crying, eating, pooping, bathing, smiling, frowning, laughing in every conceivable outfit in locations ranging from his crib to the car to the planet Peoria.
So we figured it was about time we hired a professional photographer to take some pictures of him. Just in case we missed something.
A photographer friend of a friend came by bright and early today to capture our offspring in his least grouchy state. At first he was a little weary of a giant flashing light popping in his eyes every three seconds. But he got comfortable after a while and was a real pro. I think it was because we were playing really loud techno music and the photographer was screaming, “Give me more! Work it! Work it!”
He did the catwalk, er…crawl, through our living room. We got some classy ones of him on the couch, lounging Hugh Heffner style. We got some action shots of him taming a giant black dog. We even got some avant garde shots of him naked on our dinning room table. Which I didn’t quite understand. I imagine it was so we can blackmail him if he ever tries to run for President.
The photography lady said he was the best baby she’s ever shot. Which I’m sure is her standard pre-payment speech.
The results should come pretty soon. Look for them to line every inch of our house.
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