Pray for Me

Tonight, Abby and Alexis are having their birthday party for their 9th birthday.  They invited 74 eight-year-olds to spend the night.  We've put cots out in the attic and pitched a few tents in the backyard.  Six will need to sleep on the trampoline.

The party agenda includes ripping apart the house, little bit by little bit, while emitting a shrill, constant high-pitched screeching sound.  And eating all of the food in the house.  And maybe watching the movie "Up." 

I told the girls I was leaving town but they don't believe me.  Maybe it was because I told them I was going to Canada to try out for the Olympics.  They are pretty sure I have no winter skills that would rise to world-class level. 

They've set the menu - dinner is cotton candy drizzled with caramel sauce and rolled in sugar.  Doughnuts for breakfast.

Blossom is excited.  "Will you throw my ball?  Here is my ball.  There are lots of you small people.  Someone should throw my ball.  Did you see my ball?"

George is, well, George.  "I hate all of you.  Except the woman.  I hate the new humans just as much as the old ones who I allow to share my house.  Don't touch me."

And as you can tell, I am all a-tingle in anticipation.