When Did Cute Stop Being Cute? (standard:humor, 902 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Apr 26 2015	Views/Reads: 1968/1484	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I like to think that under all of the grimacing and scowling and wrinkles there is that cute little boy that was once me.

I was rearranging some bookshelves to make room for a few new books when
it happened. I was in for a surprise and did not quite know it. There 
behind some books on my bookshelf was an old family photo album I had 
not seen in years. 

When I say old, I mean these were pictures taken when cameras were
really cameras with film in them. Nobody knows what those cameras were 
like today. 

Today, you take a picture and instantly it is on your cell phone. Back
in “the day” cameras had film in the and you had to buy film and then 
when you took the pictures you had to take the film out and send it 
away and hopefully within four weeks you get those pictures back. 

Sometimes when those pictures did come back, nobody could remember them.
We had to get together and sort them out because my father usually took 
all the pictures. 

My father was a great camera buff, not a good photographer, but he had
his camera with him everywhere and was always taking pictures. One 
thing my father could not understand was, you had to pose the picture 
and adjust the lens so it would be clear. He just pointed the camera 
and click. 

I remember one summer we went to the mountains for a week's vacation and
as usual, father brought his camera along and clicked all week long. We 
could hardly wait to get back and get those pictures processed so we 
could relive our vacation. 

That was the longest four weeks of my life. Every day someone in the
family would say, “Have the pictures arrived yet?” It got so bad that 
when anybody started a sentence with “Have the...” my father just 
glared and nobody could finish the sentence. 

Finally, they arrived. Everybody was excited to relive our summer
vacation around the old family table. At least we thought we were going 
to do that. 

As we look at the pictures and passed them around everybody had a very
puzzled look on their face. Nobody could remember the pictures. 

My father stepped in to clear up the situation. “Yes, yes,” he said,
“these are wonderful pictures and that is you, don't you recognize 
yourself?” 

Well, I didn't. In fact, nobody recognized any of those pictures. 

Then mother stepped in. You know how it is, mothers always solve
problems. Well, she solved our problem. 

She looked at father and said, “Dear, where did we spend our vacation
this summer?” 

That seemed like a very interesting question and rather irritated my
father. 

“You know,” he growled, “we spent our vacation in the mountains. What's
wrong with you?” 

Mother was quiet for a moment and then in almost a whisper she said, “If
we spent our vacation in the mountains why are there so many pictures 
of the beach?” 

My father stared at her and then stared at the pictures and I cannot
repeat what he said. He never liked it when mother was right. 

For some reason we got somebody else's vacation pictures who were at the
beach and probably they had our pictures of our vacation in the 
mountains. I would have loved to been around the table at that home 
with everybody trying to figure out why there were so many trees and 
mountains in their family vacation at the beach. 

Those were wonderful days and leafing through my photo album from the
past, I saw many pictures I did not recognize. In some of these 
pictures, there was a little boy I did not quite recognize. In fact, 


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