I take lots of photos of Ezra. I spend a bunch of time afterwards curating and only posting the best ones. The ones where he’s smiling, handsomely coifed, etc. etc. (And you thought he always looks that good.) But then a tremendous photo like this comes up, and I can’t help myself.
I’m sorry, son, if this is how people remember you as a baby. Please don’t hold it against us. When the apocalypse comes, I hope you’ll think of all the nice things we did for you, and convince the other zombies to spare us.