Tomorrow

Tomorrow is my birthday.

That means I can eat chocolate cake with icing and ice cream. I can buy books and a new outfit and new shoes and another new outfit and a couple more books. And if anybody says anything, I can smile sweetly and say, "But it's my birthday."

To be truthful, at my age and state of independence, it's usually only the little voice inside my head that has the nerve to ask, "Don't you think you are going overboard?" And I probably won't smile sweetly or say anything, I'll just ignore it.

Sometimes it's best just to pretend that little voice doesn't exist. Sometimes the little voice is really annoying.