I love my bruuuuutherrrr

As a belated birthday gift for our grandma, my mother decided upon adult portraits of my brother and I to cherish for posterity. After perusing Kelty's blog and admiring all of her lovely photos, she was sold and we set up a shoot. Easy enough right? All we had to do was show up. My mom simply requested that we don't make any "goofy faces." We all know it's not that difficult to make me laugh. It's just that my brother has plenty of time to practice. He's been present for twenty three years of my existence and we dedicated much of our childhood time together to silly business (remember playing eskimo/coat monster and tucking Kirby under the afghan to aggravate him?) as well as unintentionally cultivating a rather complicated yet strikingly similar web of "extrapolation humor" trajectories.

Turns out, "goofy faces" are much tougher to avoid than one might imagine. We tried our best to get some classy portraits in, but it's hard when he goes to grab a shirt from the car and comes back with a giant red scratch on his forehead; "Is there a scrape on my head?" "Uh, yes, what happened?" "A tree branch hit me." Or, Kelty tries to take playful shots of us running down a hill, so he leaps into the air to grip a handful of willow branches expecting to swing gracefully to a stop (we did this as children also) and RIPS an entire cluster of tree into the meadow. It started off nicely enough...

And then he starts making faces like this:

Which makes me start doing this:

Which leads to this:

Yay! We're adults. Happy birthday Grandma!