Aunts are worse than stalkers.
Sometimes I feel like I’m channeling my mom’s youngest sister, my dear Aunt Susie, who died far too young. She never had children, and she used to document our every family holiday with dozens of snapshots (and drove us insane while she was doing it). Her favorite threat when we got goofy from exasperation was that she’d show the photos to our boyfriends when we got older.
Taking pictures still sometimes feels like work to me…lugging a big camera around and having to watch out for it every second isn’t a fun task if you’re with a bunch of little kids. But it’s worth it. How did these three get so dang good-looking, anyway? Good genes, I guess.
I never thought I’d be so lucky to have two nieces who live close by. A friend of mine who has four boys grabbed my arm at a department store once and cried, “Let’s go look at the little girls’ clothes!”
But pink shoes and hair ribbons aside, my nieces will always have a special place in my heart since I’ll never get the chance to have a daughter. And Jack helps me remember how much fun little boys are (since I can’t remember much from when my sons were little–that’s what happens when you have three kids in two-and-a-half years).