Well, the big news around here is that Y has been fired...
...from ever taking a photo of me again.
I don't get it. Y is good at literally everything else. Re-wiring lamps. Trivia. Debating. Cooking. Making things out of wood. Gymnastics. Pulling my car out when it's stuck in ice. Fixing anything that could ever need fixing. Baking bread. Doctoring.
But, while he might be excelling at saving other people's lives, he can't take a photo of me to save his life.
Last weekend, we went to a real winner of a coffeeshop. The staff was rude, the wi-fi sucked, my chai tasted like milk. Its one saving grace was a neon green mural of Minneapolis. Like any good blogger would, I asked Y to take a photo of me in front of it. How could I possibly deny my faithful readers a good Minneapolis photo op?
You can guess how it turned out. But let me pause at this point in the story to tell you that everyone else who has taken my picture has been successful.
Like my nurse friend, who hadn't slept all night and took this picture of me wrangling an adorable squirming baby at 8 am:
And then Y tries to snap a photo of me.