We never heard back from Pampers, or the photographer for that matter. A few months after G’s last photo shoot I sent her a vaguely sneaky email saying something like, “You know how you promised to send me some shots? The ones Pampers didn’t want? Or the ones of Violet? Well, I just realized that you don’t have my email address, so here it is!” Hint hint.
Well, while we were in Oregon, the photographer’s “people” called and asked Graham to come in for a lighting test. I’m not exactly sure what that is, but as we were half a continent away, we couldn’t make it.
Later that week a call went out on the Mama’s list for another Pampers audition. Somewhere air-conditioned? Great. We’re there. The waiting area was packed this time, but that was actually a good thing since we ran into a couple of friends and Violet chased kids around the hallways until we were called. She sat serenely to the side while they snapped a couple of shots of me holding a Pampers-clad Graham. Same drill as last time. After we were done she jumped up and demanded her picture be taken. Thankfully the snack buffet placated her.
A couple days later the photographer’s “people” called me again and asked me to bring Graham to the auditions. “Um… we did already.”
“Oh! Great! Well, then. Okay. Bye.”
I was flattered that she actually did remember Graham enough to want him back. So when I ran into an acquaintance at the gym (perky trainer size 4 with two kids. GAH!) who told me all about her photo shoot, I was a little disappointed that they had clearly decided not to go with us. I mean had we really gotten un-cute in the past seven months? Graham has been packing on the pounds, but still…
Then they called us and asked us to come in the next day. I guess I won’t sell the boy to the gypsies quite yet. I already had my usual Wednesday afternoon sitter set up and my mom agreed to come over in case I got stuck in traffic because, of course, the shoot was waaaay far away in the swanky part of town. This time the house was unoccupied, which was nice since there were fewer things I had to worry about Graham breaking. He sat in my lap or played with toys while the make-up woman tried to cover a giant pimple (apparently I’m 14 years old). I was told to comb the mascara out of my eyelashes because they didn’t want the close-ups to reveal any makeup. Since, as we all know, moms of toddlers always look fresh and beautiful without makeup.
I actually liked the t-shirt and capri outfit they chose this time. I don’t know if they noticed the bit of strawberry that Graham smooshed into my shoulder, but they didn’t say anything. The set was a little pretend room in shades of aqua green and bright blue. The photographer and her assistants remembered us, and remembered Violet. She said she had a big picture of Graham “back there” and waved over her shoulder to the rest of the house. They couldn’t believe his hair is blondish-red now and accused me of sending him to a salon.
We sat on the synthetic tatami mat and basically just played with and tickled Graham. Quite early on, Graham did a header into the floor, from which he is still sporting a bruise. He got over it quickly and they didn’t seem to mind the red spot on his forehead. (Yay Photoshop?)
We stacked blocks, played peek-a-boo through a aqua green and blue beaded curtain and pretended to share a green apple. My shining moment was when I, getting a little too into the land of make-believe, actually BIT the apple by mistake. The crunch brought the crew to a screeching halt. I could actually hear them thinking “Damn real people. So unprofessional. When are we going to shoot models again?” We quickly moved on to bubbles. Big hit. Shortly we were covered in soap.
As soon as they’d had enough we were ushered out of the room. I didn’t even get a chance to see the photo of Graham she had mentioned, or ask about the last shoot. I don’t even know if this one is for a package or magazine. Meh. I just can’t believe I got paid to play with my kid for two hours.