Fiction

No Photos, Please

Gabriel’s mom took photos with her phone wherever they went. At the amusement park, his mom took photos of Gabriel before a ride and again after the ride. At the beach, she took photos of Gabriel before and after he went into the water. And on birthdays? It seemed like his mom took pictures every minute.

“Smile!” “Stay still.” “Say cheese!” Gabriel wanted to play and swim and eat cake, not stay still for pictures.

One day, Gabriel began coughing and sneezing. He had to stay home in bed. His mother made his favorite soup, sopa de pollo. While he ate the chicken soup, his mom took out her phone.

“Mom!” Gabriel cried out. “You are not going to take my picture, are you?”

“No, mi niño,” she said. “I want to show you something.” It was a photo of Gabriel when he was a baby. “This was the first time you were sick. I was so worried about you, until you got better.”

“I don’t remember that,” Gabriel said.

“Do you remember this?” His mother showed him a photo of them together on a roller coaster. “When you are better, we can ride on this again.”

Gabriel was quiet. Then he said, “It is okay if you want to take a photo of me now.”

“Are you sure?” she asked him. Gabriel nodded. Then he felt a sneeze coming. Just as he sneezed, his mom took a photo. She showed it to him. His face looked so silly! They both laughed.