November is to photographers, what September is to teachers.
It's what April is to Accountants.
And June is to Camp Counselors.
I make my Mom's Christmas card for her every year about December 15th.
After I make it, I always hope and pray it will arrive by the 24th so she can at least get them postmarked pre Christmas.
She doesn't like this at all.
In fact, today when I got home from work at 4:30,
she was waiting in the driveway.
She basically told me she wanted to be like all the other normal humans in the world who send out Christmas cards in the early days of December.
I told her today was impossible.
I showed her all the pictures I had to edit.
She crossed her arms and said, So & So's Daughter told her Mom it only takes 10 minutes.
Of course this made me want to drive over to So & So's Daughter's house and punch her in the nose.
But misplaced anger aside,
I told my Mom I would get it done before night's end.
A big part of the problem with her cards is finding a picture of which she approves.
My Mom, like most women, hates having her picture taken.
It's hard for me to understand this because I think she is gorgeous.
She has the most beautiful hair.
Her eyes sparkle.
And her smile?
It's so warm, you could make a s'more.
She told me I could use whatever picture I could find if I could just get it done immediately.
So, I had to dig through my instagram for her card.
The quality is lacking.
But the love?
Well, there it is in tiny 1 x 1 squares.