However, because you all are special, I’m going to share a few photos of me that my parents sent BEFORE the wedding. Because I am nice that way. Also? That much photogenic-ness cannot be hidden away.
I am little. And cute. And my parents are from the 70s. It’s pre-sister, so I must be about
Here I am slightly larger. This is the only picture I can remember seeing that has both sets of grandparents in it. My paternal grandparents are seated (that’s me on grandma’s lap). They both died in the last few years (grandpa in 2002 at age 93, just after the architect and I met, and grandma in 2004 at age 87 [I think], the day the architect and I climbed Mt. Whitney). My mother’s parents are both still doing well — they sold their farm a few years ago, but still live in their own house (they are both well into their 80s, and recently celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary). Also, check out my dad’s hair. I really wish he still had that hair. Not because it looks good, but because it’s awesome.
I have no idea what I am supposed to be here. Scary wig. Scary jack-o-lantern face. My father’s church robes. I have no idea. I must be in high school. Maybe this is the year my youth group hosted a “Haunted Forest” and I was one of the spooky guides. I really have no idea.
And this last one. Get a load of the hotness that is me. I am about 16 in this picture, and this was the skinniest I’ve ever been in my life (the previous January, I had influenza and dropped a lot of weight that I didn’t need to drop). Those shorts are size 3. I’ve no idea why I’m so serious, though. Perhaps I am merely contemplating my own amazing hotness and trying to figure out how to pose for Playboy (which was an early goal).
Wasn’t that fun? Would you like to see pictures of the architect next?