Sunday, November 7, 2010

A brief, early morning conversation with Lindsey: Quality photographic time with an 11 year old (or why it's so hard to get great photos of your own children once they hit a certain age.)

So Lindsey and I were out walking the Rockefeller Estate (home to the world renowned Blue Hill at Stone Barns agricultural center along with some of the most stunning farm animals you've ever seen) communing with nature and each other. She had hopped up on a stone wall and I slowly reached for my camera bag. (We have an agreement where I am limited to just a few photos of her a month and conditional based on her mood and the prevailing winds.
   "Really, Dad? REALLY!" (Said with way too much 11 year old attitude)
"Cmon Lindsey, you look so...interesti...uh, cute. You sure have a knack for putting together the ensemble."
  "Dad, it's 7am. This is what all the kids wear early in the morning."
   "Really, Lindsey? REALLY!" (turnabout is fair play)
   "You want to take a picture don't you? You want me to me to pose don't you? You want me to sit here and smile while you take gazillions of pictures? No!"
   "C'mon. I'll make it quick."
Click, click, click.
   "Lindsey smile, please."
   "Not till the braces come off."
   "God, Lindsey...gimme a break." (Photographers are only allowed to get exasperated at their subjects if they're related.)
   "Fine. Hurry."
Click. Click. Click.
Click. Click.
   "What Dad?"
   "Could you show a little more emotion?"
She rolled her eyes.
   "Not that kind"
She pretended to whistle.
   "Lindsey, what if I told you a deranged bull suffering from acute Mad Cow Disease was right behind you with a swarm of man-eating turkeys and a psychopathic sheep?"
   "I'd tell you to run, Dad. You did say man-eating, not girl-eating..." (Big smile)
   "I can see your braces."
   "Oh yeah? Well I can see you need to go on a serious diet."

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