The SZQ and I took L'il Man to get his pictures taken this afternoon at Jacques Pennay (yes, calling Big Box stores by their faux en français name makes it feel only a little better to actually go there). It started out as a great afternoon idea and ended like a Homeric ordeal. We did manage to end up with some really good photos of the Man (and yes, his Monkey) but as we looked at the digital proofs, the photos really told the story better than I ever could: First, it was the lip. Then the sad eyes. Then crocodile tears. And the beet red face. Then a full-blown meltdown.
Even breaking out Monkeyman (and the photo employees finding a vacuum for L'il Man to oggle) couldn't save the day. As I followed the scrambling, 18-month-old through the Men's section and all the way into Footwear -- and whimpering all the way, looking for an exit -- I decided that this experience had officially bent the space-time continuum. We were at JCP for 75 minutes and I felt like we'd been there forever. If a picture really is worth a thousand words, then I'm guessing our photos and today's experience are tantamount to the Odyssey.