Andrew has the camera.
Lucy wants a picture by the tree.
I say Andrew, "Don't take a picture of me."
He says, "I won't Court."
I say, "I am serious."
He says, "I won't Court"
He winks at Lucy.
I go back to coaxing The Chief out from behind the tree.
White flocking bits are sticking to me,
on my dress
in my hair.
(I was warned, but I didn't heed
the part about toddlers and
"Come on sweetheart,"
I sing sweetly.
But he doesn't move.
Meanwhile Lucy poses
(her old cheerleading pose-perhaps?)
Betsy ponders the great attributes of classical Rome
and Andrew takes the picture.
(With me in it.)