We stopped at a red light, and without much enthusiasm observed the sidewalks. A woman, as she walked, fixed the white lacey gossamer slip of her dress. It dragged out of her skirt, obviously making her feel self-conscious. A short, stubby man with an overbearing gut was nonchalantly picking his nose as he ogle the lady adjusting her slip. He stared at her, as though undressing her with his eyes.

I looked at my father, who was looking right back at me. We both laughed. Being only five years old, I was at an age where I found everything hilarious. The very fact that my father and I were looking at the same scene and probably both thinking how perverted the man seemed made me laugh hysterically.

My dad continued to drive. I kept gazing at the scenery of the city, as the sun started to set and the darkness took over. Our little sightseeing trip was over, or so I thought.

I was so used to the same path we went through, that when my father made an unaccustomed turn, it made me suspicious. I refrained myself from

They stopped kissing; my dad started the car again and began to drive. As he was driving she whispered things into his ear, giggling and snickering inaudible words. They were oblivious to the fact that I was in the back seat watching them. I sat there pondering in amazement at what I had seen. She didn't look once towards the back seat, but she knew I was there watching them both and was insouciant. She just kept caressing my father.

"Honey sit in the back seat". My father ordered me.

I sat there impatiently waiting for this so-called "friend", getting bored as the minutes went by began to wander. My eyes traveled upon two squirrels chattering down a tree engaged in a game of tag. I pointed them out to my father laughing.

Some topics in this essay:
, father looking, seat watching,