We bought a photo printer this weekend. Our old printer was one of those $49.99 crap printers that started dying the very day we brought it home. It ate paper, it told us it was out of ink when there was a brand-new cartridge in there motherfucker, and it would print pages and pages that looked like this:
But now! We have the most brilliant little printer in the world. I'm so proud of it. Jason and I praise and exalt every little thing it prints -- especially our digital photos. No photo lab in the world could do a better job than our little Canon Jr. It looks like TiVo has finally gotten that baby personified electronic brother it's been asking us for.
The new printer has revived our interest in all our old photos, which currently reside on the dying hard drive of a dying laptop. Its days are numbered, its battery is shot, its case is cracked, its screen doesn't stand up straight anymore but now kind of wobbles. But still we hold onto it because it was free. Jason stole it from some start-up we both worked for back in the gold rush dot.com days. We even tried to make the old CEO get us a replacement battery for it because while yes, we did steal a laptop, at least we weren't suing him for unpaid taxes like all the rest of his ex-employees.
So last night Jason began ripping all our old photos to CD and printing the best ones out. It was quite fun. Old pictures of Max. One or two of us. More Max. Oh look! We had a friend over that one time. Wasn't it so cute when they held Max?
Then Jason found this one:
It was taken about two years ago, judging by my tank top. I took one look at it and said, "Christ. Look at how skinny I was! I've really put on weight."
To which Jason, of course, responded, "Whatever! You don't look that different. In fact, you look better. Look at those bony shoulders! Ew!"
Except that he totally didn't. He just sat there. He didn't say anything. Don't you think he should have said something?
(I think he should have said something. A lie, a falsehood, anything.)
Max, on the other hand, weighed a whopping 15 pounds when this picture was taken. The next summer he had back-to-back life-threatening and owner-heart-attack-causing urinary track blockages that caused him to drop down to a horrifying 10 pounds. Now he's at a happy 12 pounds. Mom, however, has seen a thickening and softening of the upper arm area that methodically spread up her arm, past her shoulder, and is now moving down her back where it will soon meet the mushiness that has overtaken her ass.
Sigh. But thanks to our kickass new printer, Jason and I will always have this picture to remind us of the days when I had visible shoulderblades.