My chillins have decided to turn on the camera. Due to the fact they have never actually seen their mother's entire face, but only fragments covered by a black box named Nikon; it is starting to affect them. I think. Maybe. They need attention. They need human contact. They need therapy. I swear by all that is good and just and pure and holy that my twerps do not know how to act. As soon as the camera is whooped out, they turn into my husband's spawn.