The birthday catastrophe*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 28, 2012

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Submitted: October 28, 2012



Okay, so I am grounded now... No big deal... I only set my house on fire. It was an accident! I swear it was, but then you don't know me, so how are you supposed to believe me? I'm not crazy, I'm not... Even though many people do call me a freak... And well once Anita did call me crazy. Anita just doesn't like me. I mean it is completely perfectly normal to eat toffee popcorn, with mint and chocolate chip ice cream, with crushed up Oreo’s dressed in vinegar.

But back to the point... I never set my house on fire by accident... I mean it was by accident!!! I mix up sentences a bit...  And plus it is not like I set my house on fire... I know I said I did but I did not. In fact, let me just tell you what happened... Yesterday.

I ran down the stairs in my pyjamas. I was extremely excited. I sang to myself, “Happy birthday to me..."

Yes! I know. That is sad singing to myself, but I was happy.

So anyway. It was my birthday yesterday. I was turning thirteen. I counted down from two months ago. Yes. Pathetic! I kept leaving hints on the fridge, they were subtle clues, for example 'I want a new bike please!!! I'll cry if you don't get me one!!!' (I stuck little stick notes all over the fridge. I also wanted to screw lots of sticky notes into balls and write inside each, so when I would open it, it will fall all over my parent... but I didn't. I would rather waste my time doing nothing, than something)

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah! So as we have established, it was my birthday and I was over the moon. Not actually... Do you know how much that will cost to go over the moon? I don't but I bet it's expensive!!!

I reached the kitchen where my parents were sat drinking their tea. I do not get why adults drink tea or coffee! I don't like them, although the smell of coffee is intoxicating in a good way. Wait! Random thing. In subway they have white coffee. I saw that and I was like okay then. That's a little...

So anyway I said hello, hoping that they would give me a bike and throw other presents at me.

"Hello." I repeated.

"Hello darling." Mum said.

"Morning princess," Dad said.

"Aren't you two forgetting something?" I asked.

"Oh yes! Darling I am so sorry, but I have work. I know that is half term, so can I place you in a half term club, just for today?" Mum asked me.

I couldn't see myself, but my mouth hung open as if I was waiting for a bird to fly in my mouth.

Had they both forgotten my birthday?!!

"Forgot something?!?" I asked sternly.

"Oh yes." Mum came over to kiss my cheek.

"Can Dave look after me?" I asked.

"Okay." Mum agreed.

"Or maybe I can go out with Bertha?" I suggested.

"No!" Mum disagreed.

"Worst birthday ever!" I moaned.

"Crap!" Mum shouted. "How can I forget? I feel real bad leaving you here..."

Dad just pulled a face.

"Fine. Tell you what? You can invite Bertha over." Mum said then went.

"Got work too." Dad said and got up. I just stood there sighing.

I called Bertha, and she was there in five minutes.

"Why so long?" I asked.

"Sorry." Bertha said.

By the way, Bertha is my next door neighbour.

"Got you a present." Bertha handed me a thick golden parcel. It had a gold bow on it.

"Thank you." I said.

"So. What did your parents get you?" She asked.

"An heart attack." I mumbled.

"What?!" she asked.

"Nothing." I said.

"So what did they get you?" She asked again.

"The only thing I got today was a piece of gum. Dave gave me a piece of gum and said that's your present. I asked for another one and Dave told me that I only need one, that my breath didn't stink that bad, and as for my parents, they forgot! This is the worse birthday ever! I wanted pizza, lemonade. I wanted chocolate. I don't even care if it is the rubbish 30 pence Tesco value ones that I said I hated even though I would really prefer the choc block ones. Where's the confetti? The bunting and the special personalised balloons I ordered behind my parent's backs that say, 'have a banging thirteen!'? Where's the party bags... No actually party bags are babyish. We should be at an arcade or bowling alley. In fact, where is my bowling alley? where is my arcade? Where is my big beautiful cake..." I suddenly had an idea. I thought it was a wonderful idea but then it ended up, chaotic! Disastrous! 

"How could they forget your birthday after your not so subtle, aggravating annoying notes?"

"They weren't annoying!" I disagreed.

"What idea do you have now?" Bertha asked.

"Let's make a cake!!"I said.

"Cake? Do you know how to make one, cause you can't cook." Bertha laughed.

"Cause I can cook!" I said offended.

"No. The best meals you can make are beans on toast and spaghetti Bolognese and let's just say, if I were a dessert, starving, I would turn your cooking down! “Bertha said.

"Hey! What's so bad about my cooking?" I asked.

"The mince in the spaghetti Bolognese is undercooked and the spaghetti is hard. And as for your beans and toast, don't even get me started! The bread reminds me of coal and you put so much butter, that you can see it leaking out the bottom and as for the beans, all you are supposed to do is heat it. How do you screw that up!!!"

Bertha said.

"That hurt!" I pretended to cry.

"If I pinched you it would hurt more." Bertha warned.

"Please. I want a cake!" I moaned.

"No! Knowing you instead of flour, you'll put in a flower!" she told me.

"It's my birthday!" I said. "And my parents got me nothing..."

Bertha gave me a weird look. I should have clocked that something was happening.

"Fine." She finally gave in.

I went and got bread flour from the cupboard, a box of sun maid raisins, coconut, an orange, milk and four eggs.

"I'm allergic to coconut." Bertha said.

"No your not." I said.

"Fine! I'm not. I just don't want any of your cake!" She told me.

"Trust me! You'll love it!" I told her.

"Cause...." she said rather sarcastically.

I mixed the four eggs in bread flour.

"Bread flour?" she asked.

"Yeah!" I said. "You can use bread flour instead of self-raising."

"Whoever told you that talks a lot of bull hockey. I'm trying not to swear by the way." she said.

I cracked the four eggs in.

"Four eggs?" Bertha asked.

"Yes!" I say a little aggravated.

"Well sorry but isn't four too much?" she said.

"Stop questioning my cooking methods!" I said.

I added the coconut and raisins the added the milk. I could see Bertha from the corner of my eye nodding her head.

"Sugar!" I remembered.

She searches in the cupboard and looks for something.

"Here." Bertha hands me sweetener.

"Why are you trying to spoil my cake?" I said reluctantly taking the sweetener.

"You are doing that all by yourself!' Bertha said.

I poured it into a plastic bowl and placed in the oven.

"Don't!" Bertha warned me.

"No!" I moaned.

"Open your present first." she said.

I opened the thick parcel like present and inside was three different flavours on individual wrapped Choco block. I put the mix down, and went to hug her.

"I'll put some in the cake mix!" I said.

"No. You have chocolate, so who needs a cake?" she asked.

"I do." I said.

"Fine!!" she agreed.

I sighed hardly and place the mixture in and put the oven in.

"I remembered something!" Bertha said.

"If it's about the cake, I don't care!" I said.

"Fine!" she laughed. "Expect to have a banging birthday." she slipped in.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh... Never mind." she laughed.

We then went to my room. I guess I forgot about the cake... And well, thirty minutes later...

"What's that smell!!" Dave came into my room.

"Nothing..." I said.

The fire alarm went off.

"I can't hear anything?" I said.

I went down to the kitchen and switched of the oven. I put off the fire alarm and open the windows.

Dave and Bertha came down.

"Why not open the garden door?" Dave suggested and they both started to laugh. I opened the door and guess what?

Mum and dad were there and they had laid out a table. I looked around and It was obvious they were doing me a surprise party.

The table was laid with a silver table cloth. My tenth favourite colour! On the table was a cake. A massive one, and there were sausage rolls, mini pork pies and all sorts.

"It was Bertha. She was making a cake." I tried to explain to parents.

They didn't believe me... I wonder why...

Later we removed the cake from the oven when it cooled.

The plastic had stuck to the cake and it had sunken in.

"I forgot the baking powder!!" I told Bertha.

"You also forgot common sense." she said.

I dug a knife into the cake and the insides was sticky and gluey. I took a spoon and tasted of the filling.

"How does it taste?" Bertha asks horrified.

"Nice. Like chocolaty cookie dough." I said.


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