The Saga of the Shirt . . . or knowing one's children
A few days ago I posted this READ poster which featured my daughter and granddaughter (aka Glowkid) which was a follow-up to Glowkid's book review of Matilda for her local library.
Why her mom was included has something to do with where she teaches, not because she reviewed any books. She reads books galore -- and faster than the wind -- but I haven't see a book review out of her since, well, maybe 6th grade.
But she got to bask in Glowkid's accomplishment because she's her mom. Not, apparently, that she knew this ahead of time. Or maybe she did, but she leads a very busy life and ended up having to ferry Glowkid to the photographer in the middle of a practicum with her students.
A practicum with students -- she's an athletic trainer -- requires a basic uniform of t-shirt and shorts.
You can't get your picture taken for a READ poster wearing a t-shirt and shorts. It just isn't done.
But there was no time to go home and get changed. There was only 'show up,' 'get the pic taken' and 'get back to work.'
"I don't need to be in the photo," she said.
"Oh, but you do," said the photographer or The Powers That Be or someone with authority.
"Fine," said my daughter. Did I mention how accommodating she is? (Just like her mother)
"Right," said my daughter. Brief pause. "Lend me your shirt."
It is fortunate that the photographer was a woman, that she was as accommodating as my daughter, and that she was wearing a tank top under her shirt.
So she did. She took off the shirt (a lovely shirt as you can see, but absolutely unlike any shirt my daughter has ever possessed). My daughter put it on. She and Glowkid posed. The photographer snapped. They exchanged shirts.
Simple. Effective. Efficient.
We were told there was a READ poster. We weren't told the backstory. But I must admit we know her very well. When the poster was put up on the website she told us to go look at it and admire Glowkid. "I'm in the picture, too," she said, in case we might not notice.
We went. We looked. We noticed.
And we all came back and called her up and said, "Great pic. Whose shirt?"
posted by Anne McAllister at 7:57 PM
9 Comments:
haha! great story!
What a cute story! I laughed out loud at the shirt changing. What a memory, lol!
Congrats to Mom and Glowkid!
Thanks, Anne and Lee. Apparently there was some digital fiddling with the trousers, too. They made the trousers black. They were actually khaki. Well, good grief, she said to me, they were SHORTS.
Pause. Then she said, "You'd have thought they could have at least made me thinner while they were at it."
Lovely story. LOL at the digital fiddling. (I'd want that, too. Though she is NOT FAT!)
Hi Kate,
No she's NOT FAT -- but she thought the pic wasn't terribly flattering. I think it's great. And I'm pleased to have them both immortalized on a READ poster. It's fitting!
I'm glad you liked the READ poster. I am the photographer with the shirt. Actually my name is Anne Price and I am the coordinator of Public Services at the Townsend Memorial Library on the campus of the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. I like the way you spell your name. We were really tickled to have Courtney and Stephanie pose for the poster. Stephanie also did a book review for us and you can read it @ http://theinfocru.typepad.com/my_weblog/2007/03/stephanie_burke.html
I really enjoyed reading you blog!
Hi Anne,
I like the way you spell your name, too. And I like your shirt. Thank you for lending it!
I've read the book review -- and in fact reprinted it shortly after it came out. It's somewhere down below on the blog back a couple of weeks.
Glad you've come to visit the blog. Come back any time. Bring friends!
cheers,
Anne
I loved the shirt, Anne P. And the story Anne McA. And that kids love to read.
Roald Dahl is so great because there's a lot for grown-ups to laugh at and ponder while they're reading it out loud, too.
Liz, the best children's book, in my humble opinion, are the ones that continue to delight adults reading after reading. Like Maurice Sendak and Russell Hoban -- and Roald Dahl.
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