The Expiration Date
Inside the school
spring portrait packet was a coupon for a free 10x13 picture at Photo Palace
with no sitting fees.
Being crazy about
collecting family portraits and photos, I tore out the colorful coupon and put it
into my handbag. Since the expiration date was a long time away, I knew the
coupon could wait until winter to be used--wait for a weekend free of
children’s activities and my social commitments.
I really love these
great bargain tokens. I think the sittings are a wonderful outing for my kids.
We enjoy the poses we have to assume under the guidance of the skilled
photographer, young folks trained to handle their work professionally. The amusing phrases some
of them concoct to make us smile usually upgrade the smiles to loud laughs.
We took marvelous
pictures of spring parties, egg hunts, spring break tours, all with our camera.
Several of them captured my children playing naturally, several with fabricated
poses. My son would most often choose the posture of a snarling tiger, and my
daughter would do her best to be ladylike.
The most awaited
summer holidays arrived. Radiant days advanced, extending the outdoor play
hours, and increasing the count of biking companions ringing the doorbell. Weekends
were packed with outdoor fun, and the mall was not the place the children
wanted to go, not for any photograph.
The picture coupon was
still in my purse where similar slips were accumulating. I could never use it
now. I used most of the coupons, but this had to wait. Not when my children
were enjoying the colorful and joyful graces of warm days. Short summer had to
end.
Glorious summer
had a tremendous share of pictures taken by the four of us with our camera:
pictures on sandy beaches, jumping on large waves, in the swimming pool with
goggles, whizzing on rides in the theme parks, snapshots of outdoor parties,
casual camping bonfires, blissful boating scenes, shots with sun burnt skin,
extra white grins, short trimmed haircuts, sleeveless dresses, shorts, chalk
scribbled driveways, and a lot more. Videos and pictures galore capturing the
sunny days.
We took several snaps,
but the picture that we were to take at Picture Palace using the coupon had to
wait. That was going to be special.
All the while, the
token was there accompanying me wherever I went. Every time I saw it, I was
filled with joy. I was exhilarated at the thought of the wonderful time we were
going to have at the studio, the felicity of seeing our magnificent picture--that
would last for posterity.
So the days flew by,
and school reopened. Fall had the weekends filled with farm visits, hay rides,
and scenic trekking amidst changing colors.
The cold kept us indoors,
and soon winter came knocking with its chill. I planned the hairstyles,
outfits, and kept reminding the children that we would soon be going to take
the picture.
My children and
husband didn’t care. My daughter was looking forward to her lemonade and
cinnamon sugar pretzels. I was the only excited one.
I booked the
appointment for several weeks later. I chose a weekend when we would have no
classes.
Finally, my family
picture day arrived. I fed my family a hearty meal of rice with lima beans,
asparagus and toasted hen of the wood mushrooms, and for dessert we had pastries a friend bought
for us from California.
We all wore shades of
orange. My husband and son wore orange-hued shirts. My daughter chose to wear
an orange yellow silk churidar embroidered with maroon roses. I chose a sari
that was of a similar shade.
I made the children
practice our smiles, natural smiles. The children tried. My husband said he
would have the perfect smile on at the studio. All the way to the mall we
exercised our smiles.
On arriving at the
studio we were asked to wait for ten minutes. We decided we would just browse
through the adjoining store that sold albums, frames, and picture holders.
My son spent his time
racing around the store, his energy not waning but waxing. My husband’s
adrenaline was rising from trying to keep our boy at bay. Cautious about
ruining our mood and dresses, my daughter and I were quietly enjoyed the store.
After ten minutes, we
were summoned. A middle-aged man with a French beard was our photographer. I
handed him the coupon. It seemed to bid me farewell.
The long-awaited
session started. We selected a cloudy background. My son’s energy levels were
at the highest. With every pose he would jump when the flash shone. Every time
the photographer said, “Say ‘stinky feet’,” my son would laugh uncontrollably.
It took us a while to settle down, and the photographer kept using the same
phrase that would trigger the laughter. I could tell, my husband, was annoyed
at the delay. The photographer had his fake, tired smile pasted on, but the
three of us were wholly enjoying the session.
Eight pictures
were taken, and we eagerly awaited the outcome. It took just a couple of
minutes, and what did we have? In all the pictures my son had made odd faces,
squinted his eyes, pouted his lips, or stared with wide-opened eyes. In one
picture, he had ducked behind his sister.
The pictures would
have made great memories, but they were not what I wanted. The
photographer saw my disappointment and was ready to do another sitting but
asked us if we had the energy.
I did some talking to
my son, and the next session began and ended with my husband warning my son of
not getting an ice cream if we had to spend more time taking another set of
pictures.
The session ended. We
got to select the photo. Our faces were shining all right, but our smiles were
different from the dignified ones we thought we had become proficient at. The
picture was adorable.
Even though it was not
what I would have chosen, as a courtesy to the kind and tolerant photographer,
I took it. I did not want him to go through the torture of another sitting.
We chose a
photograph of my daughter suppressing a giggle, my son’s eyes beaming with
mischief, my husband smothering a grin, and my smile bearing fatigue.
I picked up
another coupon on my way out.
We left the mall, and
I knew my husband would have to forget the exhaustion of this outing before I
could schedule another visit to a picture studio. My children, though they had
fun, would never consent to another sitting any time soon.
I was
hopeful another year might settle the children’s energy levels. My son would
learn to comply with a photographer at a picture studio. We had time.
Picture Palace coupons
have a long expiration date.
