Say cheese

Today was school picture day, and each spring we have the same old man come in to take the photos. It’s quite honestly one of the most painful things to endure. Last year when he was taking my picture for the yearbook he said, “Hey stilts, smile into the camera and say ‘Ally the alligator’.” At that moment I’m not sure which would have brought me greater joy, shoving the stilts where the sun doesn’t shine or watching with delight as an alligator devoured his head. I think he mistakenly thinks he’s a stand-up comic that got lost on his way to some seedy comedy club in Des Moines. He tries to make the students smile by using such sure-fire zingers as calling for the next boy in line by singing “John John the brown haired boy” like some annoying pied piper at a renaissance fair.

I always brace myself whenever they call our class down. I’m pretty sure a lesser man would be driven to drink copious amounts of alcohol. So today we lined up and waited our turn until he poked his head around the corner and called for the Jolly Green Giant’s class. Yep, he really did. (News flash, I am wickedly tall.) The first boy entered the room and straightened his shirt that had a basketball on it. The photographer proceeded to ask him “Are you a baller?” Okay, when you’re 70 years old you are way past being allowed to say that word. Let’s be honest, even at my age if I say “baller” I look like a schmuck. A few students later he called up a girl who is of mixed ethnicity. He took a look at her and said “Get on up here Miss Mocha.” I know I’m from Pekin and all, but I’m pretty sure that’s racist, right? The second to the last person to get photographed was the sweetest, quietest girl in the class. She sat down and grinned into the camera. Apparently this wasn’t enough for the photographer because he then instructed her to give him her “sexiest smile.” I just stared at him in shock and glared at him with the toughest look I could muster. (Let’s be honest, I’m not very intimidating). I was thisclose to pulling him aside and reminding him that this wasn’t a porn shoot. At this point I pushed the last boy through as quickly as possible, anxious to wrap up these perverted Glamour Shots.