The Photo Thief

The other day, Shaun posted a photo of our sweet puppies up on Facebook.  I looked at the photo, and looked at it, then looked at it once more before finally realizing how come it looked so familiar. I had taken that shot and he was getting credit for it! (Not that I’m possessive, unwilling to share the limelight or anything selfish like that.)

When I told Shaun that it was my photo, he denied it.  His reasoning was that the photo  was on his camera.  I have to admit that this was true.  I confessed that I had grabbed his camera that he had left on the fireplace.  He still denied that it was my photo, swearing up and down that all the pictures on his flash drive were ones that he had personally taken. 

Although I suspected he was messing with me, I couldn’t help the steady stream of steam that was pouring out my ears and the fiery red that my eyes were turning.  My husband, usually a very fair man, was stealing the glory of this adorable photo of our pups. 

When I brought the subject of my pilfered shot up again this afternoon, Shaun couldn’t suppress it any longer and burst into laughter.  He admitted that he knew as soon as I said it was my photo, that it really was. 

He then told me about how he couldn’t understand how he had managed to take such a series of interesting, yet out of focus photos.  (Yep, leave it to me to manage to take bad photos with a really nice camera set on automatic.  I’ve got mad skilz, folks…really mad skilz!)

Fortunately,  Shaun has mad Photoshop skilz and made the photo viewable.  I don’t really care that it’s a poorly taken photos, I just don’t want my husband to take credit!

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