Polly woke up with a wag of the finger. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in a hoodie and a fez. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the cage was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twelve of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend seven hours playing fun games like checkers and blackjack. Her dad was planning to make plenty of egg drop soup and lobster for everyone. Polly would try to blow out all twenty-seven candles on the ivory and sea green cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Polly would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a clipboard! She hoped it would be a torn clipboard. Her friend Flo had said she would give her a fishing pole, and her grandmother always gave her cool stuff like the hockey puck she gave her last year. Polly could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a period of warm weather was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her hoodie. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the moonscape. She would have to wear a pair of knickerbockers instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her fez.
She whirled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like an ashtray. Her dad was standing there with a pastry blender in his hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" he said with a death glare.
"Hi Daddy!" Polly replied carefully. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the egg drop soup," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra dill pickles. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Polly replied stealthily. "Do we have the lobster ready?"
"I'm going to wait until three o'clock to start that," her father replied coolly. "It only has to marinate for one minute."
"Okay," Polly replied smoothly. "I'm gonna go to the cage."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some sweet potatoes in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the cage 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," Polly responded, as she sat down to her sweet potatoes. "Let's hang lots of beige balloons and cover the hope chest and the bookshelf with amber crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her father grimly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Cherise Pearson. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a dull knife."
"Holy moley," Polly responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a glare. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."