Last week Mom hugged me, kissed the
top of my head, and wished me a happy birthday. I was not sure what that meant till she sat a cake on the table and sat me next to it. I think she said something about taking my picture but all I heard was, “Blah. Blah. Blah,” because all I could think about was that doggie cake. It was my birthday. It was my cake. A girl should get what she wants on her birthday. I wanted that cake and I had no intention of waiting for Mom to give me permission to taste it so I did a quick lick across the top of the best birthday cake ever. I was going for a big bite when Mom sat me on the floor and took my cake away. She said I had to share it with my brother, Turbo. When he heard his name, Turbo trotted to the kitchen, stood by me and just looked at Mom. I do not think that boy knew what was going on but I did. Not only was I to share my cake with him but she really made me mad when she said we could only have a little bit at a time. I glared at her. My mean-face did not get my cake back so I did my cute-face thing. It worked. Mom sighed and gave both Turbo and me bites of my cake. It tasted so good I wanted my birthday to last for a very long time—maybe till Turbo’s birthday– when he would get a cake. If I have to share with him then he has to share his cake with me. I believe that is a Maxine law. If it is not, then it should be.
Her Point:
“Be firm in your convictions.”
– Author Unknown
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