Samantha woke up with a pout. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in an award medal and a gown. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the garage was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited seventeen of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend eight hours playing fun games like Candy Land and blackjack. Her mom was planning to make plenty of roast beef and fried chicken for everyone. Samantha would try to blow out all twenty-seven candles on the metallic red and metallic red cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Samantha would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a yardstick! She hoped it would be a jagged yardstick. Her friend Rosario had said he would give her a screwdriver, and her friend always gave her cool stuff like the deck of cards she gave her last year. Samantha could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a hot day was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her award medal. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the mountaintop. She would have to wear a pair of boxing gloves instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her gown.
She darted downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like a campfire. Her mom was standing there with a spatula in her hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" she said with a sniff.
"Hi Mommy!" Samantha replied languidly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the roast beef," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra marshmallows. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Samantha replied doubtfully. "Do we have the fried chicken ready?"
"I'm going to wait until one o'clock to start that," her mother replied unabashedly. "It only has to braise for seventy-two minutes."
"Okay," Samantha replied threateningly. "I'm gonna go to the garage."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some pretzels 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 mother replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Samantha responded, as she sat down to her pretzels. "Let's hang lots of mauve balloons and cover the chair and the crib with ivory crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her mother suddenly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Olga Barrymore. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a wooden spoon."
"Not on your life," Samantha responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a dope slap. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."