Selfie

 

OK.  Steady.  Hold on. 

Whoops... turn the camera around.  Wait, I can't reach the button.  Can you reach it?  Are you smiling?  OK. 

Click

But just one click because even one was every ounce of wobbly effort from a stretchy stretch.  Just to get one. 

Never mind smiles, tinged with strain.  Never mind an unintentional center on a nose while faces fall off the frame.  Please don't notice the fuzzy focus or the woman's behind in the background.  Try not to raise your eyebrow.  Avert those tell-all eyes.  This is the best I can do.

I'm terrible, horrible, no good, very bad at selfies.  It's not my fault actually.  Every part of me is on the short side -- my arms and especially my hands, supposedly designed for this purpose before time began.  This is why others happily take the phone from my wrenched grip and turn out something professional.  Of course.

Selfying is another of the many not-my-job, now-my job, jobs.  When it comes to selfies, Bill was the arm, the steady, the fun behind them.  Centered, posed, captured -- Click.  Easy.  

When a post includes a selfie, know that it represents sweat, turmoil, and a gumby stretch for your complete pleasure.  Go ahead and hee haw.  I do.

I lost my selfier.  He was good at it.  I'm not so good at it, but still selfying.