While driving home that day, my dad said, “I’m really happy for your teacher. Miss Howard and Carl have been together for a long time, and now they have finally decided to settle down and get married.” I nodded, bopping my little head up and down. “Yeah Daddy, and then after they’re married they can have a baby and start a nice big family and live happily ever after,” I chimed in. “That’s right my little miracle. And I have to say, that Carl Johnson in one handsome guy. Very clean-cut, put together, you know?” as quickly as my father said these words, he put his hand over his moulth, a shocked expression on his face, as he was dumbfounded with himself for saying such a thing aloud, especially to his seven year old daughter.I was surprised too, at the time, and I later realized why it had been so strange.I knew that women called other men handsome, not typically other women.Likewise, men called women pretty, not other men.That was the way it always was, and that was the way it always would be.Or so I thought.