Equal Time: Mum’s The Word

Actually, the word was a comment:  "Why aren't I in your blog?"



Mom demanded equal time, and, well, we're here to hand it over.  I had plenty of photographs to choose from – and all of them I liked – however her judgement calls varied from, "Not the one with the black brassiere!" to "Not the one where my teeth look like a horse's!"

So, as this is not the place for brassieres and horses – though possibly of horses wearing brassieres – I bring you, stage right, a portrait of my mother taken by her best friend, and judging by the hairstyle and the wallpaper pattern, dating from the early '60's.  And the first person who inquires which century gets black-balled from Vox.  I can do it, too.


Next, if we look out the left window, we see a family portrait.  It's a favorite, because not only does Mom look handsome, but she is wearing a FIERCE black and white checked top with a portrait collar.  Love it.  Balanced on her lap is the young Aubrey, little knowing that she will grow up into the famous oddity which types this entry today.

One note – notice the lollipops I'm reaching for?  They're significant.  The only way I would let my picture be taken would be if I was given candy as payment.  It was a sweet racket I had going on.  The way some people demand blood money, I demanded blood sugar money.

Anyway, we're equal now.  All serene.

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7 responses to “Equal Time: Mum’s The Word

  1. Great pictures! If I had a scanned copy, I would post our family
    Christmas photo the year I was 3, where I'm frowning blackly because
    the photographer wouldn't give me the &%$# ball he was flapping
    around trying to make us smile. Or maybe it was just because I'd
    already developed a dislike of having my picture taken…

  2. Fantastic. Absolutely lovely, all of you. And you've kept the fringe.

  3. Why do photographers think that WAVING something at children, instead of GIVING it to them will make them smile? All it'll produce is a scowl/howl, I'll tell you what.

  4. sears portrait, me about 4 or 5, my sister almost 2 years older – I *did not* want my picture taken therefore I refused to take my tongue out of my cheek no matter what cajoling my mother did or what toy the photog waved in my face (hmmm, maybe he should have given me a sucker) – to this day, I have not lived down that photo session, and yes the picture is framed and on mom's bedroom bureau – the story gets told to one and all

  5. My poor, harried mother, took the three of us down to the local newspaper one year when they had a photographer in doing portraits. Yes, even in the early 1970's small rural towns in Michigan hadn't changed much since the 40's. Anyway, we had to wait about an hour. We being a 7-year old boy, a 5-year old boy and a 3-year old girl. We were miraculously well-behaved, stayed cleaned and played quiety. When our time came, we had on our brightest, happiest smiles.
    Your mom is lovely, as is your father. All the best to you and your family.
    And I'm looking forward to the horses with brassieres postings.

  6. How did I miss this? This is great!

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