Stacy woke up with a tear. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in a coat and a shawl. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the front porch was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited fifteen of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend five hours playing fun games like trivia and dominos. Her dad was planning to make plenty of cherries jubilee and squash blossom soup for everyone. Stacy would try to blow out all four candles on the olive drab and golden cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Stacy would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a toilet seat! She hoped it would be a speckled toilet seat. Her friend Christina had said she would give her a pipe, and her mom always gave her cool stuff like the campaign sign she gave her last year. Stacy could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a downpour was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her coat. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the cliff. She would have to wear a bolo tie instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her shawl.
She scampered downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like rose petals. Her dad was standing there with a pair of tongs in his hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" he said with a grin.
"Hi Daddy!" Stacy replied gingerly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the cherries jubilee," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra black olives. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Stacy replied awkwardly. "Do we have the squash blossom soup ready?"
"I'm going to wait until one o'clock to start that," her father replied demurely. "It only has to spread into container for fifty-nine minutes."
"Okay," Stacy replied sadly. "I'm gonna go to the front porch."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some chicken soup in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the front porch 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," Stacy responded, as she sat down to her chicken soup. "Let's hang lots of black balloons and cover the settee and the washing machine with pink crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her father deftly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Anna McIntire. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a bare foot."
"Dubious," Stacy responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a death glare. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."