I accidentally married a man who doesn’t like to get his picture taken. I’m not sure how this happened. All of my friends back home always let me take their pictures. They liked it even. But Aidan: not so much. The thing is, I pretty much want to take pictures all of the time. When I went back home for Thanksgiving and tried to talk my cousin Holly into letting me take pictures of her, a bunch of my family members looked at me oddly and asked “why would you want to work on your vacation?” The truth is that I’m pretty much singularly obsessed. As you can imagine Aidan’s desire not to be photographed and my desire to take pictures all of the time has occasionally brought us to a conflict of interests. Fortunately I struck on the idea that I could emotionally blackmail him into being my model for my birthday. He tried to resist, but eventually everyone must succumb to the power of the birthday zone. I realize that he may look slightly unhappy in all of the pictures, but what you don’t know is that mildly miserable is just the way that his face looks when it’s at rest. I suspect that he secretly enjoyed himself, as he has certainly been much more obliging in allowing me to take pictures of him ever since – though it’s also possible that he has simply come to terms with the fact that resistance is futile (bwahahahahah!).

No really though, I love my husband and I think he’s adorable. Especially when he’s wearing his mildly miserable at rest expression. Best birthday present ever.