Picturing Fatherhood

If it wasn't already clear, now it's crystal clear. I am a dad. I may not yet have become my dad, or at least not realized it yet, but I know that I am a dad. I know that I'm a dad because I appear in one out of every three million photos. Ever since my wife and I went to a single family camera, I have been the default camera person. Until 18 months ago, though, I made it into pictures. My wife would insist that I be in a picture or two on every trip, party, or event. Now, there is only one face everyone insists on seeing, and it ain't mine. It ain't my wife either, but she manages to get some face time. I'm lucky if I get finger time (see above for a lucky moment). My dad was never in a picture. Even now, with all the money and time he has recently put into photography, nothing has changed. He only seems to appear in the self portraits he uses to test light and depth and whatever else it is photographers might try to test. I suppose I do make the occasional appearance in cell phone self-portraits, but most of those aren't solo gigs. No, my moments in the center of the canvas are over. And that's fine. Dipity definitely has a cuter look. I'd want a picture of her rather than one of me. In fact, that's part of the problem. But, who else would I want to take pictures of? I am a dad after all.