Wordless Wednesday – When’s it gonna be my turn dad?

Copyright: Desiree Eaglin

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Becoming “The Help”

I had a very strange experience a couple of weeks ago. I was hired as the photographer of a 3 year old’s princess birthday party and I was suddenly transformed into “The Help”. Not by the parent’s doing, they were the most gracious and some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I would die to work with them again. And not by the party guests either. They were all nice and happy to see me. It wasn’t but by the other “help” that I became “The Help”.

Let me explain.

I’ve worked in the customer service industry. I’ve worked in the social services industry. I’ve been a mom for 5 years. I know what doing something for someone else is like.
But this is different.

It was nothing spoken, it was entirely quiet.
It was that I knew without being told that I should park down the street
It was that I stored by camera bag and extra equipment with the bartender
It was because I didn’t eat
It was because I didn’t take a break
It was the looks all the other “help” gave to each other at the realization of the grandness and fancinest of the birthday party
It was the look on the guests faces when they realized there was a photographer at the party

It was like we were one tribe, the other “help” and I that is. We weren’t party guests: We were “The Help”.

It was a strange feeling, I guess because I’ve never been in that position before. Usually, I’m the fatso in front of the food line making sure I get the biggest piece. Or maybe because I sit and talk and dine at my leisure at parties (OK, lets me honest-anywhere).
I’m not complaining, I’m not whining. I would die to make that kind of money again like I did in those 3 hours.
Because of the money that I made from that party, my kids had the best damn Christmas of their lives. It was the first Christmas since we bought our house that we had money. Money to spend on our kids on stuff they didn’t really need, but totally deserved.
As I sat and wrapped their Christmas presents, I was surrounded by things that I was able to buy for my kids with the money that I earned.
Do you know how nice that is to say? I bought them things. Me. The stay at home mom that is financially dependent on my husband.
So, thank you to the gracious, nice people for hiring me to become “The Help”.

I owe you a debt of gratitude.