Worth The Extra Effort

If you dig through my archives, you'll find photo after photo after photo showing Alexis not quite looking at the camera. She was born instinctively knowing to close her eyes just as the shutter released.

Or to look just a little to her left when I clicked the button.

Or to hide behind whatever she had available.

It was her mission to ruin as many photos as possible. Truly, she found joy in evading the camera, which was highly convenient for those of us who are considering having a camera surgically attached to their forehead. Ahem.

But, somewhere along the way she started to figure out that it was kind of fun to see photos of herself. It was even more fun if some of those photos were silly or goofy or crazy.

Her favorites are the ones where it's obvious that she was laughing so hard that she has tears in her eyes.

In between all the silly and goofy and crazy, every once in a while I'll manage to capture The Real Alexis. The good-natured, silly,larger-than-life creature who can make me laugh just by looking at me funny.

And it is those photos in which I get lost.


Sloppiest Bunny Ever

I like to think Alexis is a pretty smart cookie. She can write her full name, her address, and her phone number. She reads entire books all by her lonesome self. She outwits me at every turn. But, I do believe Easter has proven she's not all that bright after all.

I have always been pretty sloppy with the whole Easter Bunny thing. Frankly, I don't care if the kid knows that the Easter bunny generally answers to the name "Michelle" and spends most days obsessing over Nutella, sporks, and camera equipment. Mr. Husband was the one who set the Easter Bunny up as a Thing and I've just gone along for the ride. I've been sticking my head out the window and leaving a slobbery trail of hints all along that ride, but Alexis doesn't seem to see that which is right in front of her face.

Exhibit A: Alexis was with me when I bought all of the candy this year. I claimed we were getting candy for her to take to school and for a basket for Mr. Husband, but how she hasn't noticed that it was the exact candy that ended up in her eggs and her basket, I have no clue.

Exhibit B: I sure do seem to know all the places that damn bunny hid the eggs. It's almost creepy how I can walk in a room and quickly walk straight to every single one. It's as if I put them there!

Exhibit C: We were all at the store together when I picked up her "major" Easter basket item--a DVD. She went with Mr. Husband while I quickly grabbed it from the back of the store and checked out separately. First the cashier basically waved the DVD in front of her face when she and Mr. Husband managed to walk past me at the exact wrong moment. Then she saw me carrying the bag out to the car. Then I put it in the trunk, despite the fact that I *never* put anything in the trunk of the car we had that day. It should have all be very suspicious.

Exhibit D: Because of the super sucky weather, I didn't get around to hiding anything outside until this morning. The number of pointless tasks I gave her so she would be busy long enough for me to run around the yard was astronomical. I mean, I dumped her Barbies out of a box and then made her put them away. It wasn't just cruel, it was ridiculously obvious that I was creating busy work.

Exhibit E: She saw her Easter basket in the laundry room WAY before she was supposed to see it. She full-out admitted that she had seen it when she started begging to go get it. Instead of just formally revealing it, I did the "Hey, look! Something shiny!" routine and moved it before she could look back. When the basket that SHE HAD SEEN appeared in the back yard, she should have known shenanigans were afoot.

Exhibit F: Two of the things that were in her Easter basket happened to be things that have been around the house for years. They were leftover prizes from her birthday party. They REALLY should have seemed familiar.

Instead of catching on to the Easter Bunny's shenanigans, the kid added to his mystique. She gave him credit for leaving footprints in the guest bedroom (it was circles of crushed carpet where the bed used to be--it's moved out right now while I paint in there). She blamed the jelly bean pooping monster for messing with the TV remote when I couldn't find it. She found an alleged tuft of fur in the desk and proclaimed it the Easter Bunny's. It's almost as if she WANTS to believe in all things Easter Bunny, so she makes things up to make him more real.

She's so totally not the smartest carrot in the bunch these days.


Imagine This