Taking a picture of my daughter requires good lighting, continuous shutter mode, and patience. Let me run you through a series of pictures I took last night when I asked Child Harbat to stand still so I could capture the pure awesomeness of her outfit.
Did I manage one good picture? Well, maybe viewed as a flip book you get a feel for the constant movement of a three-year old, an uncontainable molecule bouncing off the walls. It figures that our child would be high energy, high volume, and extremely extroverted. This weekend we visited an outdoor and there was a camper trailer parked out front and open for curious customers. It had a pair of bunk beds, a small kitchen, dining area, and a bathroom. The idea of this rolling compact house had Child Harbat ABSOLUTELY ECSTATIC. She stood in the door of the camper and called out to every living soul walking into the store, male or female, “Sir! Come in sir! Come see the kitchen and the bathroom! Sir! SIR!” She was a cute dwarf version of the street hawkers found in every marketplace and tourist magnet around the world, relentless in the siren call of sales. She cajoled at least a dozen people into that little trailer before I finally intervened and led her, wailing and limp-boned, back to the car so we could go home. Really I’m glad she has her own personality even if it’s strong as cask-strength single malt whiskey. Demure? Shy? Not this one: