I know he fits in the dryer.
I know he fits in a camera bag.
I know he fits in a wooden trunk.
I know he fits in a drawer.
I know these things because I have experimented, as you can see by my photographic proof. Now, taking these pictures was not easy. I had to sneak around my husband, who seemed to believe I was killing our son by putting him in these harmless locations. The dryer shot was particularly distressing to him. I defy any would-be photographer to get a good photo of anything with someone standing behind them whining, "Stop! What are you doing? Are you insane! You'll hurt him!" Does Jake look hurt in that picture? He's even wearing his "I Love Mommy" outfit, not his "I'm afraid of Mommy because she puts me in strange places and photographs me" outfit. When I finally managed to get that picture taken, the next logical step seemed to be photographing him inside the washer, but Brian snatched him and whisked him away before I could even finish suggesting the idea.
Sadly, I'm afraid it's the end of an era. Jake is getting bigger, and there just aren't many cool places left in our house to cram him into. I suggested the fireplace, but Brian's head began to spin. So these four photos are all I'll have to remember that lovely time when my son was small enough to fit into things, and defenseless enough to allow it.
Labels: The Karlababble Household