Today we journeyed to Whoville for a photo shoot with Mr. Grinch. Village Books has this great display, including little Who-hats and little Who-bows as well as an incredible curved wooden sled that was designed and built by Western students.
And then there is the jolly-good sport who is dressed up in this tight-fitting polyester Grinch suit: he had to wear swim goggles because the molted rubber mask was poking him in the eyes.
Ten bucks (mostly donated to Blue Skies for Children) got us a professional quality photo in this delightful Suessian storybook world. It was worth every penny.
My friend was in front of me in line, and her six month old sat demurely on Grinch's lap then, just the right moment, flashed a sweet little smile for posterity. Archer took one look at the huge green monster and started to bawl. I resolutely shoved him toward Grinch man, jumped out of the frame and said, "Just take the shot. Crying works for me."
Archer's first real Christmas photo. This may sound wierd, but I was hoping (a little bit) that he would cry. Just because that is so cliche as the thing that every parent dreads. I think it would be hilarious if we made it a sort of family tradition to always have our annual Christmas photo include a fussing, whining, or otherwise belligerent child.
