Us

We usually do a family photo shoot every second Autumn.

Here are some of this year's results.





Here's the "Did we just get caught making out?" shot:



Here the guys are climbing on stuff...again:



This one was taken whilst Tobias was making a smart remark. (Check out the acerbic curve of his ever-lippy mouth.):



And here we are reacting to his snidery:



Although I doubt we'll ever be able to outdo our zombie shot of two years ago (scroll down to the bottom of the linked post to see it), we did pose "Romanian" style. You see, Romanians don't smile for photographs. Yes, I'm serious.



Very serious.   

I must say that the severity of Jeff's face is a bit over the top. The rest of us look simply modern-day-Romanian whereas Jeff looks positively communistic.

We also took a number of other shots which I shan't be sharing online. If you really want to see those photographic evidences of our boorishness, feel free to ask next time you come over to our house, but I wouldn't dare post them since they're perfect fodder for websites such as awkwardfamilyphotos.com . (If you've never been there, check it out. It's kind of like PeopleOfWalmart.com, but with more of a homey, warm, how-in-the-world-did-I-end-up-in-this-family sort of a feel.)

One includes me grossly amused by something. Apparently, when I'm  moved to hilarity, my throat has to swell to twice its normal size in order to allow passage to my hearty guffaws. It's not pretty. In fact, it makes me want to never laugh in public again.

Another one was the result of our fabulous photog, Veronica, continuously telling Jeff that he needed to actually smile instead of look constipated. Thus, we decided to actually take a shot wherein we all exhibited our best my-gut-is-presently-granite look. Again, not pretty.

In a couple of pics, the width of my hips is especially appalling, so those are no-shows, obviously.

Halfway through the shoot, Jeff caught sight of a couple of trashcans and had an epiphany. Thus was born the final photo which I will not launch into cyberspace. It involves Delaney and I standing beside the guys who are both thigh-high in their very own metal trash can.

After us ladies moved out of the way there commenced, of course, a game of bumper trashcans, the evidence of which I will post: