Because when your firstborn son goes to his first homecoming dance with his rock star girlfriend, you drive them.

On the way you stop at a sunset field…

 

 then proceed to take too many pictures.

And when you notice your boy, who is wearing a fancy suit and a watch, is also wearing a touch of awkwardness…

you try to help him out by instructing them in strange poses…

And it works!

  (it always works)…

 So then, feeling frisky, you break out that old, dusty flash and play like you’re the paparazzi and they are movie stars…

But it gets a little too real and you need that awkwardness back again, to reassure you that he’s not truly grown up…

that he’s still just a boy chasing girls in the schoolyard…

 And then the sun sets…

  and all that’s left

is silhouettes…

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