Apples And Toast

Before I had children, many moons ago, I used to fancy myself an amateur photographer. I was really into beauty makeovers(I was in beauty school after all) as well, and I'd line my friends(and more so, myself) up for makeovers followed by impromptu portrait sessions.

Sometimes these took place inside of Walmart.

In the Halloween aisles.

Or the toy department.

Or the bath sponge aisle.

Yes, I was one of those.

And probably still would be too,  if I had more time.

But alas,  I'm a parent now. I don't have time for those types of shenanigans. Instead, I now have a whole photo album of stuff like this on my Mac-

What is this?

This, my friend, is the food that my three year old screams and whines and tantrums for, in the exact places that I find it in. An hour, a day, a week later.

Why? Why do I take pictures of this stuff?

I have no idea.

But since I do, I think I'll make one of those snappy little Shutterfly photo books for him and give it to him when he gets older.

"Congratulations on your graduation from college, Son. Here's a picture book of all the apples and toast that you wasted when you were three."

*Blank stare from son*

"Yeah, I don't know either. Insomnia made it seem like a good idea at the time."