Copied from my old blog.
December 27, 2008
We always spend Christmas morning with my husband’s’ step-father, his current wife and her family. We get together, have breakfast, open presents and chat with people we only see twice a year. Then, around 1:00 pm, we go home, use the toilet, gather more stuff together and head down to my mothers’ apartment and spend the afternoon with my mother, her mother, my brother and his wife.
There are always cameras present at these gatherings, no matter whose home we are in, there are cameras. Grandparents like to take photo’s of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The opening of gifts is the perfect time to take candid photos.
Every year, there are numerous photo’s taken at breakfast and then at the opening of the gifts at my husband’s’ family gathering. Neither one of us like to have our picture taken, but we both tolerate it in the name of making grandparents happy.
Except this year. There was no camera at the breakfast gathering this year as a family member had been buried just two days before, so the celebration was a bit more subdued than usual, and no one thought to take pictures this time. That was fine with me.
After driving an hour to my mother’s apartment, we went in, sat down chatted for about 10 minutes, and my grandmother grabbed her camera and tried to take a picture of my husband. He got this horrible expression on his face and covered his head with his jacket. My grandmother said that she just wanted to take one picture of him and he got angry and said that he didn’t like having his picture taken and he didn’t want his picture taken. Grandma said that she would just wait and try to get a shot of him when he wasn’t expecting it, so my husband got extremely angry and got up and left. He went outside and spent the next two hours huddled in the car. He only decided to come back inside after everyone had left and it was getting dark–the time that I was ready to start back home.
Today he says that he was coming back inside to chat with everyone and that he didn’t realize that everyone else had already left. So now my family thinks my husband is an asshole because he had to have a temper tantrum about having his picture taken. He never acts that way at his own family gatherings.
I guess it’s different when it’s your own family doing things to you? I don’t know. I do know that I was embarrassed, and kind of humiliated and felt it necessary to apologize repeatedly for my husband doing his best to ruin the fun for everyone else.
Some parts of my life suck sometimes.