[ WP ] Your house is possessed , but you 're used to it . Now you 're having guests over and you expect it to behave itself .

I turn off the stove. The buffalo wings are ready and kept warm in the crock pot. The beer, selected to the preferences of Toby and Carla, is displayed on the center shelf of the fridge. The table is set with a variety of chips, dips and assorted snacks. The guest toilet is clean. I turn off the stove. Wood is stacked in the fireplace, ready for a cozy fire. The pregame nonesense fills the living room with white noise. I busy myself by sweeping the floor again. My wife would be home any minute. This night is looking up. 
 
 I turn off the stove. 
 
 The sound of the garage prompts me to open the first beer. Then the sound stops and then renews. I sip impatiently. Jan walks in shortly after. `` Christ,'' she starts, slipping off her shoes. `` If they keep messing with the garage door I'm going to loose it.'' 
 
 `` That's why I park on the street.'' A quick kiss and I hand her the beer. `` Dinner is ready, they'll be here in ten. Go change.'' 
 
 Grunting, she takes a big gulp and saunters down the hall, the bathroom door opens when she passes. I close it, glancing at the mirror as I do. There's nothing written on it. 
 
 Our cat is staring across the living room at the TV. 
 
 `` Do n't do it,'' I say. 
 
 The channel changes to red necks hanging out in a swamp. 
 
 I change it back. 
 
 `` Four hours. That's all I ask. Four fucking hours.'' 
 
 My wife returns looking refreshed and happier. `` The sink is n't bleeding anymore.'' 
 
 `` Good. But we still ca n't let them into that bathroom. She'll scared the piss out of them.'' 
 
 `` Agreed.'' 
 
 The TV channel changes again. 
 
 My wife crosses the living room in three giant steps. `` Listen up you bastards! You will knock that shit off right fucking now! You will let us have one, nice, pleasant night with our friends or I swear to the Indian graveyard this place is built on that I will burn this place down, dig up every fucking grave and use the hollowed out skulls as my personal tampon trashcan! Understood?'' 
 
 The TV changes back. The pregame show is almost over. 
 
 The doorbell rings. 
 
 We greet Toby and Carla, taking jackets and a bottle of wine from them. I find myself smiling larger than I have in a while. I get them each a beer and turn off the stove without them noticing. 
 
 
 

