One of our least popular Thanksgiving traditions is to take a family photo to put in the yearly Christmas card.. That sounds innocent and easy enough. Not so.

As soon as the process begins there seems to be endless grumbling about it. If a dress attire is suggested the moans begin. If no wardrobe is required someone doesn’t like what they chose to wear anyway. Some pout. Others run around and refuse to come to the photo location. Everyone has their own suggestion for a pose. Directors abound. Smiles are scarce. It seems impossible for everyone to stand still, smile, and look at the camera at the same time on cue. Batteries die. Noses run. Kids sneeze. Someone owns a camera they don’t know how to work. Furniture must be moved. Participants crab about the sun in their eyes, the person adjacent to them and their zits.   Some family members are committed to blatant sabotage to this yearly event.

Constantly comes the question voiced in a whining tone, “Why do we have to get our picture taken?”

So we can prove we are thankful for our big happy family in our Christmas card. So hush up and smile!

Who is responsible for this loathsome task?  That would be me.  “Someday,”  I tell myself (and them), “They will be grateful that they have this photo history.”  But I fear that gratitude will only come posthumously. In fact, I fear they are creating a plan to make me posthumous.