Last week I took Wes to Walgreens to get his photo taken for a passport. John and I are updating ours, and we figured we might as well get him one, too, in case we decide to go someplace.

I got my photo taken first, which was no big deal. Then came Wesley’s turn. I had to hold him up in front of a white screen while the guy tried to take his picture. “Try” is the operative word here. For passport photos you need to be looking at the camera, without smiling, at a specific angle. But when Wes saw the guy holding the camera he started smiling at him like crazy. (I thought this was very generous of Wes, considering that the camera guy was ultra-serious, not kid-friendly, and really not worth smiling at.) Then Wes got distracted by a nice girl standing nearby and wouldn’t look back at the camera. Then he wanted to know what the white screen behind him was and twisted around in my arms to check it out. When he finally cued in on the camera guy again he thought the camera was a great toy and tried reaching out to grab it.

Finally, after about eight tries, the guy got a shot. “It’ll do,” he said.

This is Wesley’s passport photo for the next ten years. Like a deer caught in the headlights.