Today is Brammy-doodle's first birthday and we had a little party for him. Of the 62 photos that were taken during the opening of (and playing with) his presents, not one of them is usable, which has to be a first. Every last one was a blurry mess. I really shouldn't be surprised, given the fact that Bram is a very hyper little man and when he gets excited he's even more manic and then that gets the normally calm and quiet Edison worked up into a lather as well. With both dogs going mental and racing about, there wasn't a chance in hell of getting any shots that weren't a mass of barely discernible chihuahua-shaped swirls.
We still had the cake cutting photo op though, and mercifully we got a few shots from that, though that didn't last very long, for as soon as they got their (tiny, trust me) sugar fix, they were off and running once again.
At one point I turned to David and said, "Just think what Christmas morning will be like this year." To which he replied, "Hmmm. I think I'm going to ask for little chihuahua-sized sedatives in my stocking." Touche.