by Brett Stout
My parents always made me go outside around noon on every Saturday afternoon. I remember it clearly, because Transformers came on at 10:30 a.m. and it was followed directly by Saved by the Bell. Every Saturday after my cartoons were over and lunch was devoured, which mainly consisted of Spaghettio’s and grilled cheese sandwiches. I would be encouraged and sometimes even ushered out of the front door by my mother and was told to go and play in the yard. I mainly played basketball or dug gigantic holes to China. One afternoon though, I decided to try to uncover this Saturday mid-afternoon mystery. I snuck into my house and the climbed the massive amounts of carpeted stairs silently hoping my parents didn’t hear me doing it. I got to the top of the stairs and I heard the TV blasting and strange foreign sounds as well coming from their room. I kneeled down in front of their door and peeked through the small gold keyhole opening of the door handle. It looked straight into my parent’s room and directly onto their bed. My dad was on top of my mom, and they were making strange moaning noises and breathing heavily. I had no idea what they were doing, but something told me to get out of there before I was caught. I snuck back down the massive amounts of carpeted stairs as quietly as I could and soon I was outside the front door and back in the hot Georgia sun once again. I never told my parents that I knew later in life that they were always fucking in their room on all those Saturday afternoons. It’s interesting what people will never really know what you know about them. If only my parents knew that, I was the Saturday afternoon keyhole bandit.