I have a pet peeve.  I have always had it.  I detest other people in my shots; I just cannot help it.  There are those who would say it dates the picture (in a good way) or that it lends perspective to the grandeur of whatever is being photographed.  I don’t care.  I remember my daddy got angry with me on our first trip to San Antonio because I stood in front of the Alamo for 45 minutes trying to get a shot without someone else’s rump in it.  Poor Daddy, it was hot and very crowded.  I never did get it; to this day it drives me nuts.  Over the years I have gotten better and bolder.  I have gotten better in the sense that I have learned to move vantage points and, thanks to the iPhone, editing out the bottom, top, and/or sides is incredibly easy.  I have gotten bolder in that I will say, “Excuse me” in more languages than the Pope can say “thank you” to get selfish people to MOVE IT!  Sometimes they’re unaware and I give them my best smile.  I then offer to take a picture of them in return and they are thrilled.  Thus, I have accomplished my mission and have also done a kindness for someone else.  Unfortunately there are those who just push in ruthlessly.  Time is so precious on vacation!  I have realized I do not have the luxury of politely standing by, keeping my family waiting for 20 minutes, while I try to make a special memory for us — no matter how priceless it may be to me.  I always try to be mindful of others and freeze in my tracks whenever I see someone trying to get a picture.  They are genuinely thankful and I get it.  A few years ago “photo bombing” became sort of a funny thing.  I think it’s hilarious when an animal jumps in but not when some bratty kid deliberately does it.  In fact it makes me livid.  I am a not a fan of Napoleon but my husband was really looking forward to going on top of the Arc De Triomphe, which we had never done.  I asked someone if they would please take our photo and this little punk Dutch kid who was about 10 years old walked through our shot.  I asked if they would kindly take another and the then little snot did it again.  I looked over and he gave me the most devilish grin.  He was photo bombing our forever memory on purpose!  I felt my right eye twitching incessantly as I whispered to my husband, who thought it was funny — obviously I did not.  So I was left with a great picture that had the kid’s entire body right in front of us or this one.  The American author Ken Poirot wrote, “Photobomb me at your own risk!”  I feel the same way!  I managed to edit the little stink out of the second.  (He was to the right of this picture.)  In the end I am counting this war as a victory at the Arc de Triomphe.