I’ve been asked to submit a picture of myself and the girls to a magazine to run alongside an article and while I tried to superimpose my grade eleven prom pic (the last photo I am in) behind one of the thousands I have of the girls, it appeared strangely inappropriate so we asked a neighbour to come over and take one of the entire family.

Why the white shirt, denim bottoms family picture uniform has become standard is beyond me but we’re not about to buck the 2010 family pic trend.

I was asked to supply a candid shot of myself with the kids. Candid can be construed in many ways. Did they mean goofy, playful, acting as though we are not being followed by a camera but the white shirt and denim bottoms are a dead giveaway, even more than the phony smiles and incessant fake laughter? Or, does candid mean, an action shot, anything but looking straight into the lens? There’s really no problem with the latter. With three young girls, one of whom is not yet ten months, we would be hard pressed to find one shot where we are all looking at the same backyard.

It was tough finding clean white shirts and we seemed to throw around the word “crop” a lot.

We will be cropping out Hanna’s chewed cuffs, Ellie’s stained lower half and Chloe’s neckline smeared with bananas. Our shirts more closely resembled the before selection in the detergent with bleach commercials than any of the afters.

Greg tried his best to get into the shot that was meant for just me and the kids. He was often spotted in the rear of the yard, collecting a soccer ball and sometimes just dead-heading plants that would house his white shirt and jeans within the confines of the wide angle lens.

Party of five dirty shirts and denim should be on the shelves soon.