I have been thinking of the song above recently. For some reason I’m convinced that if we do have more children they will also be girls. I think it’s partially because close friends of ours had a second daughter recently, partially because I’ve been watching the TV series Louie, in which the titular protagonist has two daughters, and partially because I grew up in an all female household and I’m expecting history to repeat itself. It is, of course, far too early to be thinking of more children, but the fact that I am thinking about it probably suggests that being a parent hasn’t so far been so traumatic that I never want to do it again
Incidentally, the same song reminds me of my first trip to Glastonbury. We arrived late on the Thursday night, having trekked up a steep and muddy hill for what seemed like miles. Not knowing that the trick to Glastonbury was arriving as early as possible, there was little space to camp. We eventually found a small space in a wet, muddy field which smelt of cowshit. After struggling to put up my tent in the semi-darkness, I immediately got inside my sleeping bag to attempt to get warm and sleep. As I lay there miserable, wondering what on earth I was doing there, a drunken man walked past singing this Jonathan Fire Eater song, and for some reason that has always stuck in my mind as my first Glastonbury memory.
Of course the next day I got up, watched many bands and had such a wonderful time I went to the next eight Glastonburies, but that is a story for another time.