Mike and I have spent a couple of weeks recently tackling a necessary but excruciatingly tedious chore – moving all photo and video files from our wheezing laptop onto our shiny, happy new hard drive.
The problem is that apparently, once you have a kid, you take a stupid amount of photos and cannot bring yourself to delete a single one because yes, I know those four shots look almost identical, but there are subtle differences and I CANNOT CHOOSE.
It’s much easier to just shell out $100 and buy a hard drive, amIright?
Anyway, fun discovery! I now look old!
Ok, maybe it’s not so much that I look old but that I used to look so young.
I have never worried much about growing older. I figure the more worn I look at the end of this journey, the more I lived it up. Yet I can’t help but notice that every picture I take looks less like this:
Aw, baby faces! Less than a year into dating, circa 2006.
(As you can see, we’ve always enjoyed beer.)
Now they’re more like this:
Oof. Take a nap, lady.
Hello, crow’s feet. Even my favorite Instagram filter couldn’t camouflage you.
(Also, Ryan, would it kill you to look at the camera?)
Seriously, just one quick nap would help.
Well, at least he’s looking at the camera. Still got the crow’s feet, though.
In conclusion: I blame parenting. For my wheezing laptop and my general maturing appearance.