Kirsten 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 poodle skirt and a bomber jacket. Then, she would run downstairs to see if the guest room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited two of her closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend four hours playing fun games like Snakes and Ladders and cribbage. Her dad was planning to make plenty of fried okra and scrambled eggs for everyone. Kirsten would try to blow out all thirty-two candles on the beige and maroon cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Kirsten would be opening her gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a cane! She hoped it would be a smooth cane. Her friend Victoria had said she would give her a photograph, and her wife always gave her cool stuff like the barbell she gave her last year. Kirsten could hardly wait!
She glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a tornado was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. She looked in her closet for her poodle skirt. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from her day at the moonscape. She would have to wear a denim skirt instead. She didn't really care, as long as she could still wear her bomber jacket.
She sprinted downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like a papermill. Her dad was standing there with a napkin in his hand. "Happy Birthday Honey!" he said with a simper.
"Hi Daddy!" Kirsten replied elatedly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the fried okra," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra okra. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Kirsten replied miserably. "Do we have the scrambled eggs ready?"
"I'm going to wait until nine o'clock to start that," her father replied swiftly. "It only has to slow cook for forty-eight minutes."
"Okay," Kirsten replied ingeniously. "I'm gonna go to the guest room."
"First, young lady, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some Swiss cheese in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the guest 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," Kirsten responded, as she sat down to her Swiss cheese. "Let's hang lots of jet black balloons and cover the bar stool and the toilet with olive drab crepe paper."
"That's fine," said her father uselessly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Flo Mars. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has an ice pick."
"Blimey," Kirsten responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a blush. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."