our hood

Shaun, Marzieh, and I are chilling on the couch over the weekend, tickling her, letting her bite on our fingers, reading her stories, and making up songs to our sweet little babe. It's hot, but for the summer breeze we've opened our apartment's windows.

All of a sudden, a tweenage boy yells out the following---twice---to his friend at the top of his lungs outside our window: "F*** off, you homo!"

I turn to Shaun, and communicate all my distaste for this, as well as my sense of frustration for our lack of ability to protect our baby's ears, through a LOOK.

Shaun interprets this LOOK as though I'm seeking translation and deadpans quietly, "Apparently there's a homo outside."

That man.