Likingthistoomuch said: birthday party!
Isabelle Anne Watson looked around and pouted. Scarlett and Edmund weren't there yet, and baby Robbie was fussing and Mummy was busy with him and so was Daddy, even though it was HER birthday. It wasn't fair! Babies ruined everything, just like she told Uncle Lock. But he'd told her to be patient, that one day Robbie would be her very favorite person in the whole world, and she believed him because Uncle Lock would never ever lie to her.
And if he did, Aunt Molly would yell at him.
That thought brought a smile to her pouty face. Uncle Lock was so tall and big and he could be scary but Aunt Molly was tiny and sweet and baked lovely biscuits…and could make Uncle Lock shake in his shoes. That's what Daddy said, anyway, and after careful observation, Isabelle had decided that this time Daddy was right.
Still, Uncle Lock and Aunt Molly and Edmund and Scarlett weren't here. They'd keep her company; they'd fuss over her instead of stupid little Robbie who couldn't even hold his own head up yet. She'd promised Uncle Lock she wouldn't hide him in the cupboard the way she'd done to Scarlett and Edmund once – she didn't remember doing it, but if Uncle Lock said she did, then she did. Maybe they were being noisy and stinky like Robbie was right now, his face getting redder and redder in the way that told his sister he was busy filling his diaper.
Holding her nose, Isabelle backed away, then ran into the sitting room to get away from the awfulness of it all. She was going to be three and no one even cared!
Tears welled up in her cornflower blue eyes, but before they could spill over, the front door opened and in walked Uncle Lock, holding Edmund, who was squirming to be let down. "Uncle Lock! When do babies get to be fun an' not yucky?" she demanded before her godfather was barely through the door.
Edmund toddled over to her and hugged her, grinning up at her and pointing to his new tooth. "Toof!" he said happily. "Toof, Izzy!"
"It's a nice toof, Eddie," she said kindly, then tugged his hands free and marched over to Uncle Lock, staring up at him. "Uncle Lock? When do babies…"
"Sorry, Izzy, but babies take their own time about everything," he replied, lifting her into his arms and kissing her cheek. "Besides, it's not up to them to be fun, it's up to you," and he poked her in the belly, then tickled her until she giggled, "to decide that they are fun. Just as you did with Scarlett and Edmund."
Isabelle nodded solemnly, although there was still a hint of a laugh from the tickling. "Okay, Uncle Lock," she said. If it was up to her to decide when babies got to be fun, then Robbie was in for a long wait. She certainly wasn't going to let him be fun today. Not on her birthday!
"Hi, Aunt Molly!" she chirped as Molly and Scarlett came into the room. Scarlett was proudly holding a gaily wrapped package that was almost as big as she was, and Isabelle soon squirmed her way out of Uncle Lock's arms and over to see what the littler girl was holding. "Is that for me?"
"Izzy present!" Scarlett said, sounding just as proud as she looked. She nearly dropped the package trying to hand it to Isabelle, but she didn't mind. Scarlett was just a baby, really, not even two yet! She and Edmund were sitting next to each other now, clapping their hands and bouncing with excitement as they shouted for her to open it.
"Not until the party starts," Aunt Molly said.
When Isabelle looked beseechingly up at Uncle Lock, he raised his hands and shook his head. "Sorry, Izzy, but Aunt Molly is in charge of birthday parties, not me," he said.
Isabelle gave her aunt a sideways look; yup, she had on her "no I'm not going to change my mind" look. The one Daddy called her Slapping face, although Mummy always smacked him on the arm and told him not to call it that in front of the C-H-I-L-D-R-E-N, which Isabelle knew spelt "children" cause Uncle Lock had told her when she asked him. Yes, Aunt Molly definitely knew how to make Uncle Lock shake in his shoes, even if he wasn't actually shaking – and she checked, looking carefully at his feet. He was shifting them back and forth; maybe that was as good as shaking?
"Isabelle! Guess who has a present for you!" She squealed and ran toward her Daddy, who was carrying not one, not two, but three presents in his hands! She read the tags when he set them on the floor next to the gift from the twins; one had the letter "M" which meant Mummy, one had the letter "D" which meant Daddy, and the other one…she frowned and tried to remember what the funny letter with the round top and the two legs, one straight and one like the side of a triangle, was called.
"It's an R, sweetheart," she heard Mummy say, and looked up at her. She was holding Robbie, of course, who was no longer yelling and didn't smell funny, and…
"Oh!" Isabelle exclaimed, clapping her hands together and giving a little skip of excitement. "R for Robbie!"
As she was opening her gifts a few minutes later, and cooing over the lovely set of monster trucks her baby brother had given her, she decided that maybe, just maybe, they were sort of fun after all.
