Sweet Little Girl

I haven't been blogging much these days. If you care, sorry about
that. I told my Dad the other day that I try to avoid blogging if all
that's going to be typed is negative or some sort of complaining.
That's not interesting to read. Annoying, yes, but not interesting.

A few days ago I was sent to photograph a little event for some local
Headstart program kids. The children, between 3 and 5 generally, were
bused in with their classmates to a local country club where
representatives from a local charity had filled a room with toys and
plopped Santa and Mrs. Claus (Mrs. Claus my foot - that Mistress Claus
had clearly come straight from the Sexy Claus Costume Emporium) in the
middle. I've shot this event before and it's always stressful. It's
like herding cats and then trying to get their names. Did I mention
the spastic over-excited cats are all wearing matching school
t-shirts? This makes remembering who's who very tricky. Precise note
taking, like "cross-eyed, leg warmers, missing three fingers on right
hand" is essential.

This thing is like a smash and grab event. The kids come streaming in,
they pick a toy for themselves, slap Santa a high-five and hit the
road before the next class comes pouring in.

There are toys of all kinds here and some of them aren't really toys.
The Rudolf Red Nosed Reindeer classic made for TV movie action figures
for example - those are really for 30-year-old kids who like to
collect nostalgic stuff. Who doesn't want a collection of figurines
from the Land of Misfit Toys? There were weird things too. I think my
favorite was the little baby doll in a box with the words "It's Just
Baby Fat!" right on there underneath the little cellophane window out
from which the fat ass baby stares at you, begging for a cheeseburger.

The kids are allowed only one gift each. When the staff noticed a
little one holding a bath kit with soaps and shampoos and lotions and
whatnot in a basket, they asked her why she chose it, "It's for my
Mom" she told them.  They suggested she pick out a toy, but she
refused. She wanted her one item to be something she could give to her
Mommy. They had to convince her that they were permitting her to take
a toy for herself in addition to the bath kit, because she was so set
on not giving up the gift for her mom.

She beamed proudly as she left with a Barbie under one arm and a gift
for mom under the other.

I love my job.