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…All in all, the kid and I had a ball at the concert. The best part of going out with the kid is that he is a delightfully funny boy who is no trouble at all. Go out with him and he won’t ask for even a bag of cashew nuts. Popcorn? Pepsi? Hell, no, he is a health nut.

He won’t even let you get a popcorn for yourself, such a pain-in-the-butt that he is. You can’t steal out during intermission to get yourself a chocolate bar. He’ll be right behind you, having got intimately acquainted earlier on, with your tricks. How am I going to get him to have a beer with me in two years’ time, when he is sixteen? Almighty Lord, where did I go wrong?

More about the kid who lives in my house