Tom Scavo had always struck you as a decent enough man. Four kids, good job, loving wife. Surely he had to be doing something right.

Funny how it only takes a moment to shatter a worldview.

Tom had been on the porch with half an eye on the twins. You nodded to him as you made your way to your bin with the trash of the day. Only... when you turned around to deposit the bags, you could have sworn you felt eyes on you.

A quick glance back made it extremely obvious that Tom's eyes were no longer on his children. They were instead fixed on your behind. Derrière. Ass. No choice of wording could alleviate the situation.

To his credit, Tom played it off, quickly averting his eyes back to the twins, but the damage was done. That one look had said enough.