The Family Portrait Gone Wrong

Ahhh, Shark Week.  It always means a gathering of my in-laws in Florida.

No, not because they're bloodthirsty creatures who salivate at the slightest whiff of blood in the water.  They are just the opposite, and really some of the nicest people I know (am I laying it on too thick? Just pandering to my core audience ;).  The reason I start thinking of Mike's side of the clan is, almost every year since Mike and I have been together, we've piled in with them at their timeshare in Stuart.  Always at the height of Shark Week. 
*This year, programming has been pushed back until the 12th, so as not to compete with the Olympics.

Last year was no different, and we had the two munchkins with us.  It seemed like an opportune time to get an amazing family photo, and getting a good shot of the four of us by the rocks was high on our priority list.

Except, we kept putting it off until the very last morning.  You know, until everyone was sleep-deprived, spoiled by excess attention, and suffering from an overdose of family-togetherness. 

This was our best shot:

Lest you be fooled into thinking this is pensive, peaceful Sarah channeling Kate Moss, check out the very next shot:

There was a lot of stomping, whining, and tears.  And the kids were pretty terrible, too.

"Fine, you can have two Dum-dums and a Hershey's Kiss for breakfast.  Just smile for the camera."

Bribe FAIL.

"Are you sure it's just low blood-sugar, not demonic possession, Mike?"

"Sand on my hands! Aaaaaagh!"

Even though we're not making the trek this year, we'll always remember that golden morning on the beach, trying to force Satan's minions to smile for the camera.