The Camera

I told E that I want to get professional photos taken of newborn Turk. Like a man, E said that instead of spending money on a professional photographer, we should put that money towards our own professional camera. Hmm.

I agreed to look at cameras today, and E immediately fell in love. For someone who is so practical, he seemed to forget the fact that we are not rich people and will soon have a child. He clearly had his heart set on the camera, though, and I knew I could not change his mind. So, I decided to use the situation to my advantage. Okay, I said, if we have a fancy camera, I want you to take pictures of the baby immediately. That means you have to be in the delivery room for the entire birth.

As you know, we’ve been discussing the issue since we moved to the US. It’s easy for me to forget how progressive and accommodating my husband is considering his cultural background. And I know it’s not fair for me to expect him to fit into my cultural ideal. His cultural norm is to come to the hospital after the birth. As such, I am fortunate that I got him to agree to coming into the delivery room at all and staying until the last minute when the male doctor arrives. I really am grateful that he has been so flexible—but I still had to push him further.

E thought about it for the moment. What did he want more? To follow his cultural norm or to have a fancy new camera? The camera won, and he has now committed to staying through the entire childbirth. Ha!

E has spent hours playing with the camera and reading the owner’s manual. He is convinced he’ll be practically professional by the time the baby arrives, and he better be. Of course, his favorite subject is Tarzan. We now have about 500 pictures of him. However, I’m not sure anymore what E loves more: the cat or the camera?