Dinner With the Kluntzes

         The dark street swarmed with billowing fog, rolling through the air with a potent eerieness. Parked cars lay covered in a blanket of ice outside in the driveways. A pair of solemn eyes stared out into the dismal night. The eyes continued to stare, even as the clamor in the background grew louder. They watched as lights flickered on outside in the yard, and the eyes moved downward, towards oak wood floors.
         The eyes came to rest on the sight in the kitchen. A woman bent over the oven, with her back to the pair of eyes.
         The woman picked up a pair of hotpads from the top of the counter and began to slowly remove the contents of the oven: a rather large turkey which lay resting inside an enormous glass pan. She set the pan on top of the counter, then reached for her yellow apron embroidered with daisies. Wiping her greasy hands on the apron, she turned around and caught the owner of the eyes staring at her.
         "Oh, hun, quit staring at me like that. You need to get something done before the guests arrive," the woman said, laughing heartily. She grinned from ear to ear, her lipstick thinning on her lips as she smiled. Her green eyes twinkled in the light of the chandelier above her head. Her pinned up hair seemed to have gold flecks woven through it as she bobbed her head up and down in contagious laughter.
         The pair of eyes seemed to grow larger as he watched this woman talk to him.
         "Bill, get a move on, you crazy thing," she said, walking over to him in the darkened, adjacent room. She came close enough to kiss his lips, but instead he felt her reach around to his hindquarters and smack him hard in the left butt cheek. She grinned, then turned around and walked away, shaking her butt in the way she knew he liked best.
         The man stood in the dark, as if still in awe at the woman he saw in front of him. Finally, he moved, and let his crossed arms dangle by his sides. "Yes, dear," the man said softly, turning to his right side. He reached his hand to turn the doorknob, then paused.
         "God you're sexy," he whispered, as he turned to look at his wife one last time. "I can't wait to fuck you tonight."
         Bill moved slowly through the hallway, and towards the front door. He paused a moment at the bottom of the stairs, then decided to take a quick step towards the peep hole. He squinted his eyes and stared out into the darkened night. Sighing, he turned towards the stairs. He planted one foot on the bottom step and began walking up the stairs, two at a time.
         At the top of the stairs, Bill was met with a five year old boy playing with fire trucks and army men. He was making explosive sounds with his mouth, and turning the fire truck upside down. He threw the army men against the wall, then looked up at his father, who stood as a darkened shadow above his head.
         A high pitched, girlish voice escaped the boy's full, pouty lips. His silky blonde hair bounced as he talked. "Hi daddy!" he exclaimed. A broad smile creased across the boy's face, and the father returned the smile with a sheepish grin.
         "Hey there, kiddo," Bill said, slowly bending over to examine the boy. He was inches away from the boy's face when he next spoke. "Give daddy a hug, won't you?" he asked in a whisper.
         The boy smiled grew even wider, and he jumped up from his indian-style position on the ground and into the man's solid arms. He felt his father rise and wrap the little boy in his arms. Bill pressed the boy hard against his chest, until he could feel the boy's heartbeat against his own.
         Apparently satisfied, Bill bent over once more and set the boy down on the ground. The boy kissed him on the cheek, then began playing with his fire truck once more as he resumed his original position.