Brownie Points Read Online Free PDF

will the horses be here?”
    “Horses?!” I was shocked. “What are you going to do with horses?”
    Slightly embarrassed by the overkill, Jim explained that two knights in shining armor would joust after Queen Olivia proclaimed, “Let them eat birthday cake.”
    “Wow, you guys really know how to throw a party,” I said. “I’m sorry Jason had to miss it, but he’s with Maya at Ashley Brennan’s party.”
    The original plan was for me to bring Maya to Ashley’s party and Jason to bring Logan to Max’s kingdom, but the more time they spent working on Maya’s Who tribute act, the more invested Jason became in seeing it live.
    “Ah yes, the American Idol party,” Olivia said. “Michelle always does such a great job with her parties.” Catching a glimpse at Logan fussing at the royal clothing box, Olivia asked, “What’s he doing?” Then to him she shouted, “Honey, don’t worry about the belt, just tie it any old way.”
    In an attempt to distract her from my son’s fashion crisis, I brought the conversation back to her party. “This is really a spectacle.”
    She smiled proudly. “Max loves it, so what can you do?” Olivia delivered this sentiment as if there were no other option in life other than fulfilling every one of your child’s whims. Suddenly, Olivia’s face dropped with her memory of an earlier confrontation. “Val Monroe came by this morning and made me take down the drawbridge and moat. The nasty old crow said I was in violation of Utopia’s CC&Rs.”
    I glanced over at a crowd of rowdy boys grumbling like the starving masses waiting for the king to toss down a turkey leg from his castle window. One kid leapt at another, then put him in a headlock. Most of the swords and shields were either deflated or thrown to the ground while boys wrestled, fought and shouted. In the midst of the melee was my son standing in the perfect en garde position as he challenged Max to a duel. “Touché!” he proclaimed elegantly after lunging at his opponent.
    I smiled nervously at Olivia, hoping Logan’s situation would resolve itself quickly. “You had a drawbridge and a moat?”
    She waved with false modesty. “Nothing but some fence and a chain. And a little pulley system to make it go up and down, but Jim’s so handy, it was no trouble for him. A simple trip to Home Depot, a few nails and instant drawbridge.”
    “And the moat?” I asked.
    “Blue cellophane over a few layers of molded aluminum foil.”
    “No alligators?” I said aloud before I could catch myself.
    “Why didn’t I think of that?” Olivia cried, leaning in to touch my arm.
    “No moats or drawbridges allowed in Utopia?”
    “I think Val’s sour because I didn’t invite her obnoxious Kendrick to the party,” she said, waving her hand to dismiss the pettiness. “He and Max haven’t been friends since fifth grade. Kids grow apart, but that doesn’t mean you have to spoil their birthday parties. Bitter, bitter, bitter.”
    “En garde!” I heard Logan bark at the befuddled birthday boy. My son stood in the perfect position to begin a duel, his right hand holding the sword, his left hovering overhead. At one of his matches, Logan would have looked gallant and skilled. Here, facing scruffy Max, a disheveled-looking boy who had just been reprimanded for shoving his sword down his brother’s pants, Logan just looked like a queen. This did not go unnoticed by the other boys, who burst into laughter as Max spat a jellybean at Logan.
    “Who’s the fag?” asked a boy I later came to know as Craig Emmens.
    It wasn’t the name calling that was most awkward. It was that horrid moment after they all walked away, and Logan was left standing there, now painfully aware that he’d made a fool of himself. A few parents stared at Logan, then resumed their conversations with each other. One father smirked, seemingly grateful that this scene had not been made at his son’s expense. I rushed over to give Logan a hug which, upon