The thing about photographs is that they tell whatever story you want them to tell. For example, this one tells the story of a little girl who was REALLY very excited that it was time to decorate a gingerbread house and a gingerbread train.
And that is a true story. She was reacting to the news that it was time to play with candy and frosting and such.
This photo appears to tell the story of a very focused little girl carefully decorating.
IT'S A LIE. There was NOTHING focused about that child at that time. She was all "blah, blah, blah, blah-bitty, blah, blah-blah, blah-bitty, blah-blah." People always tell me that the kid is cute. I always reply that it's because you can't hear her mouth going on and on when you only see her in photographs. ZOMG, HER MOUTH.
And then there's this photograph. If you look closely, you may notice that a certain short person might be a wee bit obsessed with patterns and such.
But you completely miss the part where she lost her ever-loving mind because I dared to put a orange piece after red because yellow goes after red, didn't you get the memo, you moron? Oh, and purple goes on the bottom on this side, not the top like the other side, and how could you not know that? MORON. Wait! How could you put a green one there when OBVIOUSLY red goes there? DOUBLE-MORON!
And then there's this photograph:
Red, green, red, green, red, green, red, green . . . I got that memo. I may have even started the fad when I painted her fingernails a day earlier. However, the overwhelming unseen theme of this photo is one of violence. I would like to violently scream at the douchenugget who thought red icing in a gingerbread house kit was a good idea. I'd like to violently beat that person with a giant gumdrop for tossing in some red sprinkles as well. And I'll get to that, right after I'm done ripping 17 MORE layers of skin off of my hands because CLEARLY I should have spotted the red icing and red sprinkles and ran the other way before my hands were permanently died a lovely shade of reddish pink.
I like the stories the photographs tell. They're full of Christmas Spirit, even though there are moments where I most definitely am not.