"Oh boy, she's off to a flyin' start." I can just hear you all saying that to yourselves as your fingers hover over those mouse buttons. (Mine's one of those flat glide thingee's that you just slide your finger over and tap to click, neat!) To the subject at hand, please...

In 1966 I was freshly single after my second marriage and needed to find a job. Jobs for women in 1966 didn't pay enough for one frugal person to live on, much less support three growing sons. I ended up working for a company that sold baby pictures. A photographer went round from town to town snapping formal shots of the little darlings whose mamas brought them in to their local Sears, Monkey Wards, Ben Franklins or even Winston Tire Stores. Two weeks later I arrived with the 'proofs' so mommy could pick out which one she would get for her Free 8X10 (that's how the company got mom to come in the first place, you see) and perhaps buy a few more. That was my job, make sure she bought QUITE a few more! Only that usually put me in direct opposition with dad, who most often arrived with a fierce frown on his face watching closely while mom kept repeating in a barely audible voice, "I just want the free one, I just want the free one." That all changed the moment I opened the envelope with eight different poses of his little pride and joy. Who could pick one? They were all so perfect! And another sucker (oops, father) bit his knuckles in anticipation while mom wrote a check for our most expensive package. $31.99 for a beautiful oil painted 16X20, framed in our best white and gold French Provencial frame; 2 8X10's for the proud grandparents; 4 5X7's for aunts and uncles (whether they wanted them or not) a fistfull of wallet size for nieces, nephews and cousins; ALL the proofs (joy of joys) and last but not least, the coveted, Free 8X10! All in beautifull hand tinted oil to arrive at their home in two weeks, delivered by U.S. Mail! And for some reason I was the only female who stuck it out for a whole year, living out of a suitcase, driving from town to town and state to state. By the end of that year I'd toppled all the existing men's sales records, had the priviledge of seeing more of the USA than I ever dreamed I would and, got paid for doing it. "But what about those three kids," you're all about to say...?