It Takes a Glossy Mag to Get Me in the Picture

I don't know if this is a universal dad thing, but I am the family photographer.  Period.  In that role I have taken thousands of pictures of my wife and kids.  There are shoeboxes stuffed under the sofa from the predigital era.  Now that it's all 1s and 0s, I snap away like a maniac and delete with equal abandon.  There are about 2500 photos in my iPhoto catalog.  I've produced posters, and books; my pictures are all over my house and my relatives' houses.

All these photos share one thing.  I am not in them.

So when I got an email from the glossy mag that I wrote a feature for last month (when the check clears, I'll write all about that process) informing me that I would be the "featured writer" for that issue, I was thrilled.  All they needed was a few quotes about me, my website, and a high res picture of me with my kids.  By today.

I didn't have a single one.  So I called the neighbor with the fancy SLR, and her pictures were beautiful, but were missing something.

So I pulled out the trust Canon SD450, helped my wife line it up.  And here's the image that will be seen by almost a million people (if the mag in question's circulation numbers are to be believed).  My wife, the professional photographer.