Pretty as a picture

We took the Terrors to have their photo taken this weekend. I was so excited! When Girl Terror was 6 months old, we took her in, and she was cute and wonderful, grinning for the photographer and sitting nice as could be. We have those pictures on the wall, and they make me smile every day. So I was pretty smitten with the idea of having pictures of the two of them together. I just knew it would be worth the work. On Saturday we showered and scrubbed the wiggle worms, pushed their fat little bodies into new clothes, drove the hour into town, hauled them and all the hair brushes, changes of clothes, etc. into the store, and prepared to dazzle the entire photo studio. I had visions of portraits on Grandma's wall, Christmas cards to relatives who would say "Oooh. Aaahhhh." I was ready to be humble yet proud when the photographer said things like "I have never seen such cherubs! I must have their portrait for my portfolio!" We were going for one big package, and 7 alternate background shots. I just knew we were going to have trouble choosing which shots to keep, and which ones (horror!) to delete. Do I even need to tell you that none of that took place? What actually happened was Girl Terror remembered that she is afraid of heights, and that seems to include the table thingy kids sit on while getting their pictures taken. She also did not wish to touch her brother, let alone put her arm around him in a loving sisterly way. She clung to me like a tree monkey, crying "down, Mummy, DOWN!!!" I didn't want to be in the picture. I am not cherubic looking. At that point I was probably more or less possossed-by-sweaty-demons looking. We ended up with one decent shot. Both Terrors are in it, and neither one is currently crying. They are both looking up with their mouths hanging open. "Teddy" is almost in the picture, but not his face end. What you can't see his my hand with a death grip on my daughter's leg, and Hubby's hand in the back holding up the wobbly little Boy Terror. No pictures for the wall. No place of honor at Grandma's house. No wowing the relatives. Definitely no gushing from the photographer. I think next year we will just skip the whole idea.