When I made my way downstairs, my parents were peeking out the blinds like a couple of voyeurs. Through the slit their fingers made, I could see the b...ld blue lettering of the moving van next door. ‘Look at that sofa! God, that’s nice. At least they have good taste,’ my mom commented with knowing approval. ‘Spying on them already?’ I said. I grabbed the box of cereal that one of them had left on the counter and shook it. It sounded full, so I started looking around for a bowl. My parents. His lean build and 6’1′ frame were complimented by a fitted red t-shirt and snug jeans. A dark complexion and brown eyes betrayed his Italian descent. ‘DAAADDYYYY!’ Brian cried out from behind his yellow pacifier. The toddler squirmed and lurched until Becca half dropped him on the floor. His little bare feet made soft thuds across the kitchen tile as he careened into his stooping father. ‘Hello there, little monster,’ Kyle said, beaming at his son, ‘have you been nice to mommy today?’ Kyle. More

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