I believe all parents have favorites. Pictures – not kids. These are two of mine. The first was taken in the fall of 1978. David was five and in his first year of school, Elizabeth was three, and Michael was fifteen months.
David and Elizabeth were sporting their traditional, barber free, bowl cuts provided by their mom. Michael was trying to grow hair, just as his two siblings had done in their youth.
I had the matching outfitted trio sit on their swing set for the picture. It was a “leaf raking day” and we were preparing to store our water toys for the winter. I’d rake leaves and they would jump in. We had a great day just running and playing. I miss those days.
I assembled the swing set the prior summer. One Friday, shortly after I assembled the swings, two friends, Andi and Ken, stopped over to see my handiwork. They had a daughter, Alexis, who was six months older than Michael. Ken was considering purchasing a similar set.
I had been golfing that day as part of the “Friday Circuit”. The “circuit” was a group of guys who played a summer long tournament at various golf courses within and hour or so of Addison. After each round of golf we had a habit of stopping somewhere for a beer, and on this day I allowed myself to be “over-served”.
I was grilling pork chops when Andi and Ken arrived. I invited them to stay and retrieved another package of “chops” from the freezer. A problem arose when Ruth asked why I was grilling “soup bones.” Not my proudest moment.
The second picture was taken the following winter. We were celebrating hair because Ruth let Elizabeth and Michael’s grow. Their matching pony tails were glorious. I think their tails were the beginning of their special friendship.
They were sitting on the family dining table where I put them for a “photo shoot”. I wanted to capture these two dolls and their wonderful hair. It was shortly after breakfast and Elizabeth found a stray Rice Krispie. She very affectionately fed it to her brother. That just added pizazz to the picture. I think Ansel Adams would approve.
The pictures may be faded, but the memory is clear.