by Sabrina Garibian posted in Mom Stories

"Say cheese!" he shouted as he snapped about 12,000 photos of a Transformer. He then quickly sprinted to my dad's living room to take another 100 photos, this time of my dad's couch, lest he forget it between visits to Rhode Island. I also can't forget the 62 selfies, all almost exactly this same photo.

I remember my first disposable camera, how the hard plastic box barely fit in my pocket. I must have been 10 or 11. I'd feel so powerful, knowing I could capture any moment that would be revealed after just 1 hour at the photo shop. I took photos of the strangest things, like my Cabbage Patch Kid doll nestled in a pile of leaves, or once, my cousin mid-action with a Skip-It. My children will never experience the anticipation of picking up photos, the smell of the film equipment permeating the air and the stickiness of each freshly developed photo, its image a surprise every time. But they can still enjoy the thrill of capturing any moment on camera. I gave my son my old digital camera. It's been dying a slow, inevitable death with all the other obsolete equipment, like my old camcorder, my parents' car phone, and even a rotary phone my friend gave me years ago as a joke.
Whether he's a budding photographer or he's just following the path of his annoying, Instagram-loving parents and snapping a photo at seemingly every benign moment, my son has asked to use the camera every day for weeks. I thought it would be fun to sha...