We are just days away from the day that my son starts his summer vacation, and I’m not that happy about it.
Mostly because I’m quite sure that my child is going to volunteer our domicile to making his friend Billy feel comfortable and accommodated.
By the way, I don’t really like Billy. Out of every one of my son’s friends – and he doesn’t have many of them – he is the one who rocks my nerves the most.
I’ve tried so hard to like him, because I’m an adult, and he’s 7-years-old. I shouldn’t be feeling that way about any little kid. But Billy makes it hard for any adult to like him, because he’s rude.
When I say that he is rude, I don’t mean that he chews with his mouth open, or he doesn’t say please or thank you. Those are things that I can handle, and to be honest, most 7-year-olds have those common problems.
But Billy is on another level with his behavior. For example, one time when Billy, my son, and my son’s best friend Zion were playing in Zion’s back yard. I guess Billy wanted to take a break, so he decided to sit in the bed of Zion’s dad’s truck.
I live in a big hunting area, so it’s typical for parents who are into hunting to get bent out of shape when they see kids playing in the bed of a truck or anywhere close to a weapon gets transported. Thank God Zion’s dad didn’t have any weapons or gear in his truck at the time, but the “what ifs” were ringing alarms in his head like crazy. Like what if he waited a few minutes later to take his weapons out of the car? Or what if Billy’s little rude tail found his hunting rifle and hurt himself?
When Zion’s dad approached Billy, he naturally looked at the kid like he had lost his mind. But instead of Billy taking the hint, he had the nerve to look at Zion’s dad like he was waiting on him to say hello.
And we won’t even talk about how he tries to walk into my house like he pays my rent.
This is not an isolated incident. He’s done the same thing to Zion’s dad too, and every time it takes an act of God to keep Zion’s dad and my husband from cursing him out.
It also doesn’t help that Billy is one of those kids you can’t talk nicely to, because he either doesn’t listen or doesn’t care. Already, my husband, myself, and Zion’s folks are preparing to tell our kids to leave his little waffle colored behind outside, because he’s tested our patience beyond its limits.
My husband swears that he’s put an end to Billy’s shenanigans by telling him that he is the only king of our castle, and he better act like it when he comes into our house. Zion’s dad also told Billy he had one more time to forget to put some “respeck” on his home too.
But I seriously doubt that Billy got any of those messages. He’s a 7-year-old boy who acts like a 40-year-old man set in his ways. The only thing I can do is pray for the kid, and tell him to get used to getting kicked out of our house. A lot.
Does your kids have friends that you can’t stand? Let me know how you handled them in the comments.