Yearbook

Kids in France don't have yearbooks, nor do they take a portrait at the beginning of the year. They don't know the meaning of "Picture Day." Always fun, nerve wracking, unique, and nearly always disappointing. There were always those kids that wore their best Sunday dress or suit and curled or combed back their hair. The girl with the frilly socks with her patent mary-janes. There was always the kid who wore his favorite color t-shirt, even if it was ratty and tattered. The kid who forgot it was picture day all together. That was a travesty, we'd always wonder, "how on Earth could he forget?"

Then there was me, who always wore a headband or forgot to keep my hair out of a pony-tail. Then weeks later when the photos were printed, they would be delivered to our home-room in a plastic envelope with a little plastic window as a sneak preview to the most permanent picture in your history. Some of us would slip it into our backpacks hoping no one would ask to see them, uh humm...me. And if someone did ask, we'd say, "Just have to wait for the yearbook. :p" Secretly dreading that day. Then after a couple days, there is no longer any talk of the magnificent "Picture Day." READ MORE! click on link below.