Like many San Francisco residents, my partner and I are transplants, originally hailing from New England. We’ve been here for a decade, started a family three years ago, and recently, after our daughter had a meltdown because she couldn’t wear her SF Giants gear for the third day in a row, it hit us: We’re raising a full-on San Franciscan. I asked parents, youth workers, nannies, mannies, godparents, and grandparents: How do you know you've got a San Franciscan kid on your hands? Here are the answers:
1. Your small person puts Sriracha on their breakfast, and their most common beverage request is for “‘bucha.”
2. They know the fog has a name.
3. They find these things completely normal: the smell of weed in the air, people talking to themselves on the street, and a hairless man tanning in nothing but a banana hammock at the park.
4. They think a day at the beach involves several scarves and a waterproof bonnet.
5. When asked about their ethnicity, a perfectly acceptable answer is, "part Korean and part San Francisco!"
6. Shortly after learning to walk, your child learned "downward facing dog."
7. They have at least one pretty impressive breakdance move, and a favorite muralist.
8. They point out open parking spots from their car seats.
9. When you spot solar panels and begin to explain them, they say, "Duh, everyone knows how solar panels work."
10. They ask whether the dead pigeon in the breezeway should go in the green can or the black can.
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