Grrrr.

I will never be a wedding photographer.
I have little confidence in both my ability and my equipment.

And today's events confirmed that belief.

It was Day 4 of the Santa Shoot.
Santa strolled in with his walker:

He got all settled in.
But wait.
Where's Mrs. Claus?

There she is.
Um.
These were not particularly happy campers.

Our first guest. Checking out the Claus's from a safe distance:

And then. My flash farted. And all the pics with these adorable kids turned out too dark:

 We walked over to the Christmas tree and voila. Flash is working fine again:

Of course, I didn't realize the flash problem til hours later when I got home ...
Flash worked fine again when Santa's special friend came by for a snuggle:

Then this little sweetheart dropped in to see her great gramma aka Mrs. Claus:

She wasn't so sure about the old guy though:

Nope. She didn't want any part of this:

And then?
My camera stopped working.

Nadda.
Nothing.
Dead.
I took the battery out.
And blew.
I turned it on and off.
I prayed.
I lay hands on it and channeled my Pentacostal friends' type of prayers but nothing.

I could not make that camera turn itself back on.

So.

Check. I've lived through another worst nightmare.  I have about a dozen of them.

I've survived three so far.