In many households, the Christmas family photo is a cherished tradition. For writer Sean Szeps, however, it was an annual source of trauma. Recalling his childhood in the 1990s, Szeps describes a professional photoshoot at Sears, complete with matching outfits, props, and a photographer named Gary. His mother treated the session with the intensity of a Vogue stylist, coordinating outfits and barking hair instructions, while his father tried to elicit smiles with fart noises and stuffed animals. The result was often tears, stress, and a sense of relief once it was over.
Now a parent himself, Szeps understands the desire to capture memories. But he has chosen a different path. In his home, the Christmas photo follows three simple rules: keep it quick, keep it casual, and if it’s not funny, what’s the point? With his husband and twin children, Szeps avoids fancy photographers and staged props. Instead, they don reindeer antlers, bribe the twins with marshmallows, and take a maximum of three photos. If no one smiles, they reframe the image as Victorian. If the kids are struggling, the parents pretend to burst into tears.
One year, their most popular photo featured Szeps and his husband fake-sobbing next to a mall Santa Claus while the twins looked on in confusion. They printed it, framed it, and emailed it to family with the subject line: 'Season’s Greetings from the Hot Mess Express.' Szeps reflects that his mother would be proud—not because he continued her tradition, but because he now understands the desperate love behind those forced smiles. 'We’re not trying to win Christmas,' he writes. 'We’re just trying to survive it with our sense of humour intact.'
