We're at the playground in Dolores Park. Gargantubaby is heading to the top of the tall slide, so I head for the bottom to watch him. I stop in the middle of the stairway, shaded by a tree. Above me, at the top, I see an adult woman: skinny black jeans, good shoes, black tank top, fashionable blue-and-white-striped mask, expensive sunglasses. She's waiting, amid the children, to go down the slide. Gargantubaby cuts in front of her, swinging under the railing.

When she makes a "what the hell" gesture at his little back, I know we're in trouble.

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