Jo Cownie, photographed by Martin Parr, Somerset, 1988

I’ve often wondered what Martin Parr saw in us that day. We were visiting a garden just outside Bristol as part of a National Gardens Scheme open day. It was quite large, which gave our eldest daughter, Jennifer, the chance to run around; our own garden in central Bristol is tiny. I remember they had chickens, rabbits and a big vegetable patch. I think we may be peering at a pond. Alison, in my backpack, certainly looks interested in something. It was only afterwards that I recalled seeing a man there with expensive-looking camera equipment.

A couple of years later, one of my husband Jim’s colleagues, who was interested in photography, told us we really should go and see an exhibition that was on at the Royal Photographic Society in Bath. He said: “Did Martin Parr ever take your photograph?” We said: “Who’s Martin Parr?”

So we trekked off to Bath. The exhibition was for his series and book, The Cost Of Living. We read the blurb when we arrived: he has a slightly mocking take on the middle class, and the gist of The Cost Of Living seemed to be that money and wealth don’t make you happy. We didn’t know where or when he’d taken our picture – so, as we went round the exhibition, we got increasingly nervous.

It was the final shot of the show, blown up and shown on its own. My first reaction was: “Phew, it’s not that bad.” My hair looks weird, but you can’t see my face properly, which was a relief. But it takes you back, seeing yourself like that, lifesize or bigger. Apparently other people featured in the show took offence and asked for their photographs to be taken down, but we didn’t care – it’s his work.

Jim’s friend had told him his stripy jumper was in the photograph, so he wore it to the exhibition. We lingered by the picture for a long time, trying to place the date. People came and went, and we got a few funny looks, but nobody said anything. Perhaps they were too polite and British. I’ve still got that shirt. Jim’s jumper wore out in the end, but he got another one.

We started to develop an interest in Martin Parr; he sees things other people don’t. He loves the mundane and ordinary, and that’s certainly what this photograph is. Was he thinking: “What are these people doing, dragging their kids off to a boring garden?” Or was it Jim’s jumper that caught his eye? I can’t say why he deemed this photograph fit to end his show – and book – with.

A lot of people featured in The Cost Of Living look unhappy. But I don’t think we do. We were just captured as we were. It was a gorgeous day, and the garden had an incredible view. I can clearly remember staring at it for a long time, thinking: “Aren’t we lucky to have this amazing countryside on our doorstep?”

There was a big retrospective of Parr’s work in Bristol a few years ago. And there was our picture again. Our daughters came along, but they’ve never been interested in this photograph. Our third daughter, born a year after it was taken, is slightly peeved she’s not in it.