My mother comes into the living-room with the cake. There are eight on it and they are all alight. My friends sing “Happy Birthday” and I am very happy.
“Now, Barry,” says my father. “Close your eyes and think of something nice.” I close my eyes. I think of a red bicycle with a bell on it.
Then I open my eyes and I blow. One, two, three… all eight candles! Everybody claps and my sister Kate cuts the cake. There is a piece for everybody and a big piece for me. It is chocolate inside and it is very good.
“Is there another cake?” asks Tom. My mother laughs. “No, Tom,” she says. “One cake is enough for one birthday.”
After the cake we play games. First we play “Pass the Parcel”. The music stops and Tom has the parcel in his hands. He opens it and there is a small blue car inside. Tom is very happy.
Then we play musical chairs. There are seven chairs and eight children. I am not fast and I sit down last, so I am out. Kate laughs at me and I laugh too.
“Now the presents!” says my father. There are a lot of boxes on the small table and they are all for me. Some are big and some are very small.
I take the first box. It is green and it is not heavy. I shake it a little and there is a noise inside. Which one is from my grandmother? I look at her and she smiles at me.
cake
nounA sweet food baked in an oven.
“A scone is a small plain cake.”
From the Carna dictionary