When I was little, all the first cousins were herded into some sort of close grouping, youngest ones piled on the laps of the older, for photographic immortalization. We'd giggle and whine and fidget. Rarely would we all look at the camera at the same time. But photos were taken, often to be plastered on Grandma's fridge for years to come.
But there's a generation of first cousins that came before us. And their last group photo was taken some 25 years ago. That is, until yesterday. All of them came. One from the States. One from PEI. From them came 23 children, most of whom were also there, amused at the effort involved in getting adults to stand still for a moment. Because cousins are cousins, no matter the age.
Behold, the originals.
This is me in thirty years.