At the company party earlier this month they had a photo area set up so all of us in our fancy clothes could get our pictures taken. This is not my favorite thing in the world to do, especially because I invariably gain 50 pounds for the camera. I have not yet mastered the angled stance to actually look my weight. But I can fake a smile with the best of them after years of school pictures.
My husband is another story altogether. He is convinced that he can only smile if he’s genuinely having a good time, and taking a picture is not fun. So instead he bares his teeth at the camera. He ends up looking like a wild animal ready to kill the photographer, even in his fancy suit. So in this picture of our fancy clothes, I look fat and he looks like he’s ready to eat someones head.
We discussed his inability to smile last night and the discussion went something like this:
Me: You need to practice smiling for the camera. You look like you’re baring your teeth here.
Him: I don’t like to smile for the camera.
Me: This is not about liking to smile for the camera. Or liking having your picture taken. This is about making a good picture.
Him: But I don’t smile. I laugh.
Me: No, you smile just fine. You just grimace at the camera. Try letting the smile reach your eyes.
Him: It’s still bad. See? *squints and bares teeth*
Me: Ok, try being cooperative for a minute. Pretend you’re happy for the camera.
Him: Pretend?
Me: Or just imagine the people who are going to enjoy seeing this picture.
Him: Hmpf. Don’t wanna.
Yeah. So we’re going to be practicing the smile some more tonight. And I’m going to be pretending his face is silly putty and molding it appropriately.
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