No pictures, please.

For a while I loathed cameras. Whether of the video or digital variety. Still not a fan of disposable, but that's neither here nor there.

It was around the latter part of my secondary education years. Also known as the "are you seriously going to videotape me opening my birthday (Christmas, flag day) card?" years.

NOTE: Yes, I was always aware of flag day growing up only because my dad got every pointless holiday off, which meant he was around to take more pictures.

I would say that the only event in your life that should be documented by your parents post ability to drive is graduation. And that's only because it's an event in which a mother is most likely to cry. At that point, denying a picture is just mean. Anything after that has to be a likely to cause tears situation. i.e. getting married or the birth of a child.

My life documentation began early.

And it wasn't only still images. No, no. My dad was that guy at Disney World who would not only sport the fanny pack and some sort of neon apparel (it was the 80's), he would be carrying 3 cameras. And he would always be at least 5 feet behind or in front of us at all times. Because we all know how important it is to get footage of your family walking. Hours of footage.

I have been able to relive some of my most traumatizing childhood memories.

But I guess in his defense, I have also been able to watch some of the most entertaining.

The question I have is, where is the happy balance? As much as I grew to hate the slew of cameras, I recently grew more accepting. But that may just because I live 700 miles away from them.

I suppose child documentation is fair. It's when you go home for Christmas at the age of 23 and find the camera on the coffee table, father on the couch, and both waiting anxiously for the gift opening that it becomes a problem.