Okay, so I'm a little bummed about forgetting to take my camera with me to work this morning. I've been so good for the past five months of "12 on the 12th", which I first read about in Simple Scrapbooks. Susan Keuter, who came up with the idea of taking 12 photos on the 12th of each month, actually sends reminder emails on the 11th to everyone on her list.
Oh, I got the email. I just happened to wake up this morning with date amnesia. By the time I realized it was the 12th, I was way too far to turn around and head home, and way too late for work to snag a disposable camera.
So all day, as photo ops eluded me (and trust me, there were many), I kept kicking myself. Notes on the blackboard. My Jamba Juice. The blue sky being intruded upon by dark rain clouds. Red enchiladas from my favorite Mexican place. Tragic.
Then I got home, clamped my hands on my camera, and...well, let's just say that I was reaching. Photos of the DVD case of the movie I watched this afternoon (The Other Boleyn Girl -- the book was way better) paled in comparison to all the things that passed my lens by today. My husband even felt bad for me in his own snarky way: "Hey, bring the camera to the store with us and you can take pictures of me there. I'll hold a pizza in front of my face." Sure, uh huh. I almost did.
Luckily, my daughter returned home just after nightfall, and boy, did she make my camera happy. She had spent the afternoon at the beach with a friend, and when she got home, she walked into the house laughing. She pointed to her belly, which, under her striped swimsuit, seemed a little...odd...as if she was carrying an extra stomach around.
"It's sand!" she exclaimed.
The bathtub now resembles the beach, and there's hope yet for my 12 on the 12th layout.