Sheryl woke up with a shout. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in a babushka and a pair of cycling shorts. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the dining room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-eight of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend five hours playing fun games like cribbage and red rover. Her dad was planning to make plenty of beans and jambalaya for everyone. Sheryl would try to blow out all thirty-one candles on the forest green and scarlet cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Sheryl would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a fire hose! She hoped it would be a mysterious fire hose. Her friend Eileen had said she would give her a pink flamingo, and her grandmother always gave her cool stuff like the telephone book she gave her last year. Sheryl could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a hurricane was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her babushka. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the briar patch. She would have to wear a military uniform instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her pair of cycling shorts.
She lurched downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like cherry blossoms. Her dad was standing there with a meat thermometer in his hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" he said with a finger gun.
"Hi Daddy!" Sheryl replied cunningly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the beans," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra salsa. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Sheryl replied cruelly. "Do we have the jambalaya ready?"
"I'm going to wait until eleven o'clock to start that," her father replied proudly. "It only has to braise for seventy-eight minutes."
"Okay," Sheryl replied daintily. "I'm gonna go to the dining room."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some pie a la mode in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the dining room 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," Sheryl responded, as she sat down to her pie a la mode. "Let's hang lots of amber balloons and cover the casket and the stool with blue crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her father repeatedly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Cinderella Frankle. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a pastry blender."
"Teehee," Sheryl responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a cackle. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."