The photographer brought a white divan. The mom had about 8 outfits. One was extremely fluffy & pink. She left her car door open so that me and my neighbors could barely eek past in our own cars.
I just kept thinking, that's not your field!
I don't think she had a right to take pictures there. She never played there when the mustard plants were six feet tall. When it was filled with real-life lady bugs, so many we collected hundreds in jars. She never set up a fake death scene there with black plastic trash bags and hot dogs (for a decaying body). She never rode her banana seat bicycle through that field every day of her life when she was 8. Or walked through it with candy from the 7-11.
Is nothing sacred?