Crotch Shot

People mean well.  They do.  While my husband and I were on vacation recently I was asked by another couple if would take there picture.  They wanted me to get the horizon as well as their two smiling faces.  The woman handed me her smart phone and I obliged.  I think I even squatted to get the best angle and managed to make the couple look like they were crazy in love.  Or, maybe just crazy.  I may have bent my knees a little too far.

After I snapped the picture the woman asked if she could take our photo.  I said no at the exact same moment my husband said yes.  The problem is he has a much louder voice.  My expectation was that he would hand her his iPhone, but nooooooooo.  He told me to hand her my Nikon D7000 with the 24-70 lens.

If you’re not familiar with that camera, it’s heavy.  It has dials and buttons and rocket launchers*.  I knew this would not end well.  Handing the camera over to the woman, I explained that she needed to hold the button half-way down to focus, and then when ready, double click to take the picture.

For some reason, “double click” is akin to rubbing your tummy and your head while spinning counter-clockwise.  She could not do it.  We ended up with one shot of me looking like I’m snarling at her and pantomiming how to double click.  She tried again.  “Did I get it?” she said with more than a little desperation in her voice.  I looked at the shot.  “Yep, perfect.”

What she had shot was a lovely photo of my husband’s crotch.  I don’t know about you, but nothing says vacation memories like a memento of my husband’s nether regions.  Sharing my camera?  The best part of my day.