My first son (we call him Pookie) is sixteen years old. I had him with my girlfriend. She was a surfer and beautiful and sexy and funny and gutsy and we had amazing adventures together. She was completely stunning. She knew how to fix cars. She hated rules and regulations. Children (especially Pookie) just loved her. We lived together and made films together and had a baby together.
But then we broke up. I left. Not sure why or how that happened. She was my perfect girlfriend. And together we were an amazing couple.
In happier days, we were both in love with Evan Dando, the singer of the Lemonheads. Once, we were at a Lemonheads concert and Evan Dando asked two people to join him on stage to sing “Mrs. Robinson.” My girlfriend got up and so did some other girl. They started singing and the other girl leaned over and told her she was singing in the wrong key. My girlfriend looked at her and frowned. She decided she didn’t want to sing with this stupid uptight girl next to her, so she stepped away from the microphone to the front of the stage and casually stage-dived onto the crowd. We caught her. Everyone loved it. We looked at each other and smiled.
Strangely enough my (our) son looks a lot like Evan Dando these days, but with short hair.