Yeah, I know. So in a twelve hour period my Mp3 player and my camera were destroyed by one of the God's of Water in there many forms. I actually had a goose about online to see which one I could curse for it - instead of pointing the finger squarely at myself. First up popped the Aztec God of Water, Chalchiuhtlatonal. Which ironically is the sound my entire family make when they inevitably choke on whatever drink they're having a stab at. Then I ended up reading about Tiamat - a Babylonian chaos God who is often depicted as some mentally unstable woman/serpent splashing about in the oceans trying to ruin everything. But then I figured if I tried to pin it on a specifically female God (mother of them all too, apparently) that I'd likely draw the ire of some twonk like Hannah Rosin - a narrowly focused writer so obsessed with her thin hypothetical view of masculine society that she even managed to write an entire article that stated that what really made her uncomfortable about the Aurora shootings was that some of the guys allegedly tried to protect their girlfriends - thereby impinging upon them some sort of forced patriarchy. I realized I should stop all this Water God silliness after I began to wonder what my next electroni device and water-based travesty would be - and figured I would either cry or urinate on something against my will until it broke. Then I Googled for images of, "God of Urine" and - after a brief sense of fear that I may actually end up being sent to my own blog - the images appeared and I realized I'd made a terrible error.
Anyway - this all forced me to pull out my daughter's camera. One because I now feel like I'm missing something by not having a camera on me, but also because I've just realized I'm going on vacation in three days for a week and would like a camera to take with us. So I found my little girl's camera in her room. It had been so out my own mind for so long that it took me a good hour to find it. Then I had to recharge the batteries. Then - what do you know - 140 photos are on it. Not all taken at once either. Evidently my daughter had been sporadically firing off shots (by the look of things only three or four at a time, in some cases) every now and again. There were also 14 videos on it - twelve of which were less than a second long. The one of them is 4 minutes long. No wonder the battery is flat. Weirder still is that it appears I and her mother (who amazingly appears to have been home when the sun was still out) even took some of them because she's in a few of them. I don't think she's learned how to mount and delay a shot yet. So I sat down this morning with her and flew through some of them in an old style View From A Mentalist-style way.
This is the first picture on her camera. Yes - it is her dragging her brother's head into shot by pulling his hair. I imagine he loved that. I would normally feel a sense of disappointment that she would lower herself to abusing her superior size and strength to get him to do something - but then I saw the following ten or so photos of him laughing his head off at her. Actually this photo reminded me that I know someone with a very young child that is just learning to talk. Out of all the words in the English language that it could choose from to verbalize the emotions and ideas that it had swirling around inside it, it picked, "help." That's not a good sign no matter how you look at it.
.I love this photo. And no - it isn't of Graham Linehan. I've actually convinced myself that my daughter has taken it upon herself to take photographic evidence of her younger brother spilling into the house early each morning still half-cut - reeking of gin and a kebab he spilled all over his own crotch. I say this because there are literally tens of these eyes-half-closed-and-gurning pictures in here. Don't believe me?
See. And as you can see he managed to get home from his Secret Midnight Bender (don't Google that...) on that Lego train which is in soft-focus behind him.
.This is a photo of my daughter looking at a photo book with her mother. It's a Family Album thing you make yourself (this one of 2008) on Snapfish into a hard-back photo book. They're pretty decent. I like the sense of sharing and time spent together that this photo conveys. The next forty-ish photos were jaunty out-of-focus shots of the inside of the photo book.
Like this one. It's of my daughter eating her first thing at home. I say at home because earlier that day we'd been to a pub in Bath (I think) and my daughter spent the entire time eating an onion. Anyhoo - this photo interested me firstly because my daughter exclusively describes it as, "that was me as a little, wee baby." But mostly because I thought it was interesting that you can experience formative moments in your life but have absolutely no recollection of them at all. But then I remembered that I can't remember pretty much anything about my own growing up growing up and for a solid year at university.
.And here's my daughter as a farmer - probably fulfilling an innate dream of her mother's. I should point out that this is on a big cardboard farm that has a purple silo, a pink tractor and a cat bigger than a horse on it.
I told my daughter that I was impressed that she got a photo of me - as a little carrot - right before she ate me and pooed me out. If you don't know what I'm talking about you can either click that link to learn/remind yourself - or just assume that I haven't taken my Olanzapine this morning yet.
And to tie the whole thing together I promised my daughter I'd put this photo up she took of herself. She says she smiling because she's thinking about Angry Birds. At least she's not obsessed with Twilight or some other such nonsense I suppose.
This is her video of The World's Biggest Pumpkin. I have no idea why she is talking lie that.