Vera woke up with a hoot. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in a horsie costume and a shawl. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the garage was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend three hours playing fun games like billiards and crazy eights. Her dad was planning to make plenty of spaghetti and steak for everyone. Vera would try to blow out all nineteen candles on the rose and chocolate brown cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Vera would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a fishing rod! She hoped it would be a hard fishing rod. Her friend Kirsten had said she would give her a stapler, and her cousin always gave her cool stuff like the compass she gave her last year. Vera could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a dense fog was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her horsie costume. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the oasis. She would have to wear a pair of pantaloons instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her shawl.
She hobbled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like a skunk. Her dad was standing there with an egg cutter in his hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" he said with a death glare.
"Hi Daddy!" Vera replied hopefully. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the spaghetti," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra sugar. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Vera replied wryly. "Do we have the steak ready?"
"I'm going to wait until eight o'clock to start that," her father replied sharply. "It only has to press for twenty-four minutes."
"Okay," Vera replied threateningly. "I'm gonna go to the garage."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some pot roast in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the garage first?" she begged.
"It looks just like it always does," her father replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Vera responded, as she sat down to her pot roast. "Let's hang lots of crimson balloons and cover the credenza and the futon with turquoise crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her father angrily. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Marla Brooks. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has an electric mixer."
"Aaack," Vera responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a power fist. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."