I laughed out loud: that was the name of the emailed file. In his first six hours, little Cooper had already scored more photographs than my shutter-neglected offspring will probably see this year.

And here's the kicker - Cooper isn't number one or even two, he's kid three!

So allow me to stop for a moment and give props, that is proper respect, to Coop's ‘rents for not adhering to the old standby: you know, hundreds of pictures of your firstborn and a few of the second. Heck, any kids after that are lucky to find a photo predating their first day of Kindergarten.

Though by week's end, I expect my friend's new little bundle of joy will exit the hospital ward like a hounded paparazzi darling, shielding himself from flashbulbs with his baby blanket before diving into a waiting limo - or minivan as the case may be. Another hapless victim of modern conveyance and convenience.

Yes, I blame technology.

Once upon a long lost time, say about ten years ago, film was an expensive, precious, and finite resource. For most events, you had twenty-four shots or less to get your picture right: a bar set way too high to assure success. Trust me, with a shelf full of family albums featuring timeless moments forever documented with half-closed eyes, turned heads, and open mouths, I speak from experience.

The purchase of my first digital camera freed me from the misery of scrapbooking yet another lousy photograph, or worse, developing print after print of the inside of my purse. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know - put the lens cap back on! But that early digital, while handy, had a very limited memory.

Not that this was a bad thing.

Digital gadgets have evolved to store hundreds of images. Kids born into today's media savvy, digitally-mastered universe will have their every milestone documented and Photo Shopped to perfection. Red eyes, corrected; sky not blue enough, no problem; blurry image, delete.

It kind of makes me wonder about that iconic Kindergarten picture. Will they be so memorable if they aren't so inherently bad?

Mine reflects a tomboy's existence, with an overabundance of freckles on skinny bashed knees, straggly red hair, and a standard issue horrid school uniform. Maybe some historical revision is in order - get rid of the dress, straighten the hair, airbrush the knees and freckles...voila. On second thought, perhaps not: I'd probably end up looking like an Olsen twin.

Instead I think I'll just busy myself surfing my email - only 108 photos to go.

Laura Douglass writes for the Seven Lakes Times where this column originally appeared.