I’m sitting in a booth at a local coffee shop, shoveling soup in my mouth before going to a dentist appointment that is almost certainly ending with a cavity filling. Over the strains of a Coldplay song, I hear a dad playing with his young son. He has obviously just picked up his son from school, and the two are intently cataloguing the boy’s selection of play cars.
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I snapped this family photo this past weekend and every time I look at it, furtively during a meeting, scrolling through my phone or catch it on Facebook, my heart explodes. It isn't because it is a classically styled, family Christmas card-esque image. Most of us are in bathing suits, my sister and I are squinting and the dogs look like they are plotting an escape. My wrinkles have wrinkles, my leopard bathing suit totally clashes with my sister's nautical towel and my stepdad's face is shrouded in shade.
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