The problem with being the baby in the group is this...
30 July 2014
I was looking back at some of my old photographs the other day. Mind you, only the digital ones on my computer. I never even glanced at my hard copy prints.
It was a friend’s 50th birthday. And as the self-appointed photographer at any gathering, I’m always the one taking photos. And on this occasion, we had bought Thea a digital photo frame. But what is the purpose of a photo frame if it is not filled with pics? And who should have all of the pics? Moi!
Now, this was not an easy task. I have over ten years’ worth of photos. Thousands and thousands and thousands. Entire hard drives full.
Making even a small selection of some of the very best photos was a mammoth task. Eventually I dedicated over three hours to the project on Friday morning (nothing like last-minute-com), and eventually whittled the selection down to a mere 5 000. And this was only up to January 2008!!!
I eventually called it quits, and trimmed it down further to a measly 763. I will continue my task, but for now it’s an ample start. Two hours’ worth of continuous photo play.
But here’s the thing I noticed on my three hour long photo journey. A journey filled with awesome memories and really good times. The one and only Cole is the baby in our crowd of friends. And for a really long time, he was the baby of the family. Our nuclear family, as well as the extended family on both sides.
One fact became blatantly obvious – he didn’t need legs.
There are very few photos of the little bugger walking at all.
He was permanently attached to someone’s hips! The adults carried him around – family and friends. Our friends children. Our other children. Our family members. Random people at social gatherings and school functions would claim him.
He was forever hoisted. And attached like a limpet to someone’s side.
Even once he was able to walk. And even then, he didn’t really fancy walking either.
Instead he opted to run. Very much a reflection of his personality. A trait still evident to this day.
So perhaps he was saving himself. Reserving his energy. Knowing full well, that when the time came, he’d leap through life.
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A rare photo of little Cole with his feet touching the ground - and even here he's running