So this kid walks into my house and happens to be my oldest birthday.

My youngest has a friend over to hang out. His place has no TV and his PS2 is out. It's cool.

So I make brownies and I also make peanut butter nugget to place on top, kind of like frosting.

So this other kid who I met once but did not recall comes to get my sons friend to go skateboard. They were in the middle of playing a new video game so he did not want to leave until his turn was up. Cool.

So I talk to the kid. The kitchen is open to the living room. He looks tells me how loves brownies. And then he sees the bowl of stuff and asks what that is. I say its like peanut butter frosting for the brownies. He made a face like shit was put in his mouth.

I ask him, "Don't you like peanut butter".

He says, "Yah but on bread."

"Well it's my sons birthday and I try and make him something that really likes. My son dislikes cake but loves peanut butter. Doesn't your mom make a special cake for your birthday?"

"Yah but..."

"I say well it is a good thing it is not your birthday."

Then he spots our cat. "Damn that's a fat cat. (which is very large 14 lbs.) "What do you feed him?" and "Does he always sleep?"

I tell him, "Dry food only," and "No he wakes up to eat." Meaning a kind of joke. Needless to say it escapes him.

Then he says, "Don't you ever leave the house?"

I say, "Why yes. Just last year I went to the store."

"Well I never see you."

((Funny I was not aware that when I leave the house that should swing by his place and tell him so. I must be rude.}}

Then he asks, "How do you get to rest of the house?"

I say, "Through the door behind me."

Without another word he starts to back there. Now mind you, EVERYONE is up front and no one is in the back.

I yell. albeit not my super mom voice,"Do not go back there. You can not just wander around someone's house. It is very rude."

I am mean to tell I dislike this stupid rude kid. He runs the neighborhood all summer. I doubt his parents know where he is most of the time.

He is 11 and in the 3rd grade. There is no way his parents give a shit what he does.

Thank God he rarely comes over to our house.