School Picture Day was a load of Bulldink...

I'll always remember picture day as a very stressful event from my childhood.  It seems as though something catastrophic always happened precluding me from the glamour shot I always longed for.  The shot that I looked so great in that I'd beg my mother to buy extra wallet sized ones I could trade with my friends...A picture I'd be proud to give to the boy I maybe had a small crush on.

But alas that never materialized.

My picture day usually began with bad weather.  So I'd spend extra time getting my hair "Church on Sunday" ready only to have to walk to school in a typhoon.  The little comb the photographer had on hand was little consolation for  my bangs that seemingly enjoyed parting ways in the center of my forehead like Alfalfa.  Remember his hair?  Little Rascals fame?...yeah, that.

And when the weather did seem to hold out, I inevitably had gym 20 minutes prior to sitting in that photographer chair.  I especially remember my gym teacher from Junior High...she was a hardcore jock. Made us gals run 2 miles cross country on picture day.

I remember trying to assess the damage to my hair after sweating and wheezing running uphill.  My perfectly feathered hair a distant memory as it hung sadly crimped.  My face blotchy and red.  Sweaty...so yeah, that picture was a winner too.  I think I was so happy to just sit from running that my facial expression looked a little too relaxed.  As though I just shit my pants really...

Then there was the year I had picture day and was playing at recess.  I tripped and fell into a mud puddle.  I was wearing a fancy frock...with a white shirt underneath.  I remember my teacher telling me to wait for the speckles of mud to dry...then we'd be able to scrape it off in time for my picture.  What the fuck lady?  Ever heard of a phone?  Calling my mom?  No...I sat looking as though I just tried to jump a train car...and failed.  That one was crap too.

And lastly, the year my mother had a fascination with butterflies.  Made me weather lavender Garanimal Pants (2 inches shy of my ankles) and a lavender patterned butterfly shirt.  A child's leisure suit really.  She had also decided to trim my bangs for the occasion.  Perhaps if the photographer tilted his camera they would have looked straight...but they didn't.  Started long on my left eyebrow and ended dangling an inch from the right brow.  But I also had pigtails, so many those detracted from the hack job on my bangs...No, it didn't...

Any of you have good picture day memories?  I sure as fuck don't...

See ya'...