So it's lame. That's fine. I accepted my own cheesiness long, long ago.
The Sheriff needs a haircut, and this past week he woke from his a bit too short of a nap with the sweetest sleepy eyes and the cutest bedhead. (Every mother thinks her child has the cutest bedhead, and those thoughts are ones to keep the world turning, my friends.)
I hadn't taken out the "real" camera as I call it in a while, and I'm no photographer. I have no clue how to edit pictures. Maybe one of you awesome bloggers will fly your editing selves down here one day and teach me. I'll supply the ritas and queso. You bring the Adobe.
I just knew in my heart that his look on that day was one I'd want to remember for my life.
Something tells me he must think he's still dreaming in this next one.
We went out for a wagon ride to grab the mail and blow bubbles in the shaded but still utterly hot garage. Somehow I captures this face. If only my lighting were right! But I gave it the old "black and white" and it makes me smile.