My Instagram feed is mostly full of kids (or dogs) looking cute in tidy houses with parents (or owners) hashtagging words that I never really say. Right now my first picture is of someone’s dog running on an amazing looking beach somewhere that’s definitely England. My morning has been different to my Instagram friends’ and I’m suffering with Instagram jealousy.
This morning I was surrounded by broken glass and barbecue sauce. I didn’t take a picture for Instagram and I didn’t put anything about it on Facebook or Twitter. Faith and I fell out over I’m not sure what as we all struggled to get out of the door. Running late and trying to get breakfast ready for Adlai, I decided to blame the fridge for not containing a any milk and I slammed the door shut but not before various bottles of condiments dived for the floor. With sticky socks and a 4-year-old who’d only eaten dry cereal – we escaped the house.
Just as I felt we were getting the better of the morning, and I was considering some kind of selfie image for Instagram of my son on his scooter and me on my bike, Adlai slipped on some ice and and the moment had passed.
I eventually made it to work. My Instagram and Twitter feed filling up with various successes of Monday mornings. Then a perfect-looking image popped up of my son fast asleep, taken by my wife just moments before all the barbecue chaos we didn’t know was awaiting us. Compliments and likes poured in – some of which were probably from people feeling some Instagram envy, not knowing the chaos the boy was about to wake up to.
I suppose Instagram perfection is all about the angle you take the picture from.
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