The background you need is this: My mother was the chief recorder of all events, large and small, at our cabin. She and her Kodak Brownie could be seen flying out the front door and down the path to the driveway any time guests arrived. It was vital that every visitor was documented. If you didn't have your picture taken by my mother, you weren't there.
This was also the case for any and all occasions that occurred over the course of the summer. With a June birthday, I was fated to have a great many photos snapped "candidly" as I worked my way through adolescence. As a family, we all got used to it and we even started to suggest opportunities and subjects for my mother to practice her photographic skills.
On a particular Father's day, after the eggs and bacon had been put away and the one skillet we used to fry it all up in had been set to soak, the Caven men knew it was picture time. Obediently we all walked out the back door, and up the hill into a nice patch of sunshine. My mother stood near the bottom of the hill, just across the creek from us and began framing her composition. We had our usual bit of fun with her by moving about in ways that made it impossible for her to get the shot she wanted. It was my older brother who whispered the suggestion in our ears. I had to explain it briefly to my younger brother, quietly as mom kept urging us to "move together." I am surprised that my father went along with it, but on the count of three, the four of us all did move close together, turned around, dropped our pants and flashed an eight bun salute at our mother. As we pulled up our pants and turned around, giggling and guffawing, we saw her standing on the edge of the creek, stirring the water with a stick. At first I thought she might have dropped the camera into the stream, but luckily it hung safely there around her neck by the strap. It took as long for us to quit snickering as it did for her to speak to us again. I'm sure that part of her wishes that she would have taken the photo at the time, just to prove what a bunch of insensitive male pigs she was forced to live with, but alas, she only has a much more polite version, taken some time later to remind her of that day. The extra smirk on the faces of all the boys is the only evidence. Happy Father's Day - sorry Mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment