In My Car

I am in my car with Ryan somewhere, and I pick up my camera and take his picture. He gives me "the look". I can interpret "the look" for you. "The look" means, "why in the name of heaven and earth, dear mother, are you pointing that thing at me?"

I am not deterred. Do you know why? It is because I am immune to "the look". I have been getting "the look" for years and years now, and "the look" has no power to make me put down the camera. None at all. No sir. None.

Instead, "the look" tugs sweetly and strongly on my heart strings, and those strings pull up the corners of my mouth into a smile, and then my shoulders start to shake in their silent laugh sort of way, and that does make me put down the camera.

Wait a minute.

Think, think, think.....realize.

I guess I have to admit that "the look" does have some indirect power to make me stop taking pictures.

Pause.....realize.

An indirect power directly related to "the look".

Oh, sheesh, this is one tricky boy, with one tricky look.