Deborah woke up with a face palm. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in a romper and a tam o'shanter. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the linen closet was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited eleven of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend three hours playing fun games like Candy Land and old maid. Her dad was planning to make plenty of clam chowder and roast Cornish game hen for everyone. Deborah would try to blow out all thirty-two candles on the tan and polka dotted cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Deborah would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain an arrowhead! She hoped it would be a ridiculous arrowhead. Her friend Karen had said she would give her a cactus plant, and her aunt always gave her cool stuff like the chain she gave her last year. Deborah could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a snowstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her romper. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the neighborhood. She would have to wear a toupee instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her tam o'shanter.
She stalked downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like burning trash. Her dad was standing there with a wooden spoon in his hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" he said with a smack.
"Hi Daddy!" Deborah replied cautiously. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the clam chowder," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra pork and beans. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Deborah replied gruffly. "Do we have the roast Cornish game hen ready?"
"I'm going to wait until four o'clock to start that," her father replied kindly. "It only has to whirl for eighty-three minutes."
"Okay," Deborah replied nimbly. "I'm gonna go to the linen closet."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some fried eggs in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the linen closet 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," Deborah responded, as she sat down to her fried eggs. "Let's hang lots of silver balloons and cover the bookshelf and the buffet with tan crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her father hopelessly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Bria Noon. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a grater."
"Yikes," Deborah responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a smile. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."