Tammy woke up with a glare. Today was her birthday! She was going to have a lot of fun today. First, she would dress up in a pair of Bermuda shorts and a jogging suit. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the boiler room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited eleven of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend one hour playing fun games like chess and marbles. Her dad was planning to make plenty of banana split and fried eggs for everyone. Tammy would try to blow out all nine candles on the golden and fuchsia cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Tammy would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a toolbox! She hoped it would be a nice toolbox. Her friend Lakshmi had said she would give her a Hostess Ding Dong, and her grandma always gave her cool stuff like the bird cage she gave her last year. Tammy could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a sandstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her pair of Bermuda shorts. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the housing development. She would have to wear a set of scrubs instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her jogging suit.
She tumbled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like mint. Her dad was standing there with a garlic press in his hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" he said with a raspberry.
"Hi Daddy!" Tammy replied dolefully. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the banana split," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra mayonnaise. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Tammy replied sheepishly. "Do we have the fried eggs ready?"
"I'm going to wait until four o'clock to start that," her father replied temperamentally. "It only has to deep fry for thirty-eight minutes."
"Okay," Tammy replied boisterously. "I'm gonna go to the boiler room."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some cinnamon toast in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the boiler 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," Tammy responded, as she sat down to her cinnamon toast. "Let's hang lots of sparkly balloons and cover the overstuffed chair and the bookcase with emerald green crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her father sweetly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Lottie Phillips. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a garlic press."
"Aye," Tammy responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a power fist. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."