Last week I was called by Our365, the company that took Fynn's hospital photos. The woman on the other end of the line told me that I was supposed to get "one more photo with your package." Well I know we didn't buy a package, we bought the CD so we can make our own announcement for the bargain price of not an arm and a leg. So I was on to her and her wily salesperson tactics lickety-split-like.
And then I accepted her first available appointment. Tomorrow morning at 9:00.
The front room has been cleared of all extraneous items and is ready for it's close up, Mr. DeMille.*
I have to supply my own props, so I've pulled a couple of cool baskets, a crocheted rabbit from Fynn's newest aunt, and a couple of blankets.
I have two outfits and a hat laid out for Fynn and one in mind for Mad. I tried to iron the three-dimensional fabric flower on said dress tonight. On an upholstered chair instead of pulling out the ironing board. The chair is either A) upholstered in some non-cotton fabric (feels like cotton) or B) also covered in some sort of goo that was not visible until singed with hot metal. The iron, which is roughly my age (it was my grandmother's... has a fabric-covered cord and is heavy as sin) has probably stopped smoking. Regardless, it's on the back patio.
More importantly, I did some digging about this offer, found out it's legit (the mind wonders) and got the scoop on what to expect in terms of the sales pitch tomorrow. Personally, I'm all set to sign on the dotted line. Tom, not so much. He's wondering why we need professional photos at all since we have "so many photos" already. To that I say, Duh! Because none of us here is a professional. And while we do have a few hundred shots of Fynn lately, they mostly involve her sleeping in some completely normal, dare I say traditional way.
I want something new and exciting. Don't you? Exactly.
I'll let you know how it goes.
*Note that clearing it out took all of five minutes. The room is always near empty, with three bookcases, two chairs, an excellent photo of Neil Young that my brother-in-law took while on assignment one night, and a clock that has the first three numbers and "who cares" in place of the rest. We use this room for playing catch with Maisy from the living room, changing diapers downstairs and letting kids go crazy whenever we have a gathering. This virtually empty room is entirely visible from the street, so why we had a card on our door from Clean House asking if we have a problem with clutter is beyond me. We do not. We have a problem with space. Well, except for our room right now, but that's very temporary. And Corey's room, but... well, he's seventeen. And a boy.