As I stomped into my room, I used my foot to slam the door behind me…hard. I wanted them to know that this was not okay with me. I mean, you don’t just tell someone they’re going to have the worst birthday party of their whole life and then go on with dinner like nothing happened.
“This sucks, this sucks, this sucks,” I yelled, making sure to stand really close to the door so everyone in my apartment could hear. Probably everyone in the whole apartment building could hear.
I waited for someone to come in. Maybe my mom with a comforting word. Maybe my dad with a new plan for my party. But no one came. It was me and Rosa alone in my room. Wow, if I ever needed proof that I had suddenly dropped to number three on the list of Zipzer kids, there it was. It hit me in the face like a wet noodle. Outside my door, they were knee-deep in pizza, having a great old time. And no one cared to even come in and check on how sucky things were for me.
“So this is how it is, Rosa,” I said, putting her little tank down on my desk. “It’s you and me.”
She climbed out from under her rock and scampered up the side of the tank facing me. As I looked at her rubbing one hairy little leg against the other, an idea hit me.
“Who needs them?” I said to her. “I’ll give myself my own birthday party.”
Call me crazy, but I think she understood.
“Rosa, would you like to come?”
Rosa rubbed one leg against the other again, and I took that as a yes.
Okay, I was feeling better. Let them go and have that baby and be all distracted and everything. I could make myself a perfectly fine party.
“So, Rosa, what kind of party should I throw? And don’t say anything that has to do with Spider-Man. I’ve outgrown that. My Spidey tighty whiteys don’t even fit anymore.”
Rosa just sat there on the side of the tank. I could tell she wasn’t going to be much help in the party planning department.
“Okay, then, I’ll call Ashley,” I said. “She’s an organizational specialist.”
I opened the door to my room and snuck out quietly. I could hear that the pizza fest was still going on. I crept down the hall to my parents’ room, being careful to avoid certain floorboards that I knew creaked. After ten years of creeping down your own hall, you learn these things about your apartment. Like if you ever come to my apartment for a sleepover, don’t expect to hop in the bathtub right away, because it takes a long time for the hot water to make its way up the pipe from the basement to the tenth floor. Sometimes it takes so long for the water to heat up, I have to have a snack while I’m waiting.
I got to my parents’ room and tiptoed over to the phone by the side of their bed. I dialed Ashley’s number.
“Hey, Ashweena,” I whispered. “It’s me.”
“Why are you whispering, Hank?” she asked.
“Good question. I don’t know.”
“Okay, so you’re in a weird mood. What’s up?”
“I’m throwing myself a birthday party,” I said. “And it’s very V.I.P.”
“What’s it going to be?” Ashley asked.
“Good question. I don’t know.”
“Okay, when is it going to be?”
“Another good question. I don’t know. But can you come?”
“Good question,” she giggled. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, my birthday’s Sunday,” I said. “How’s that sound to you?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Hank,” Ashley said. “I would love to come, but I have a plan this Sunday. Frankie and I are doing something.”
“On my birthday? What could you possibly do that is more important than my birthday?”
“Um…well…this is supposed to be a surprise, so don’t say anything to your mom…but we’re driving out to New Jersey to a baby outlet where we’re going to get a stroller that converts into a car seat that converts into a playpen that converts into a crib. It’s a present for the new baby.”
For the baby! Oh man, this new baby was everywhere.
“Fine,” I said into the phone. “Have a really great time. Don’t worry about it, because I am perfectly capable of having an amazing birthday party that will make your socks roll up and down.”
“Hank, don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, Ashley. I’m independent. And don’t worry. I’ll let you know how great my party was.”
I hung up the phone a little too hard. I stomped back to my room, not worrying about the creaks coming from the floorboards. Let them all hear me. Let them all know I am Hank Zipzer, independent party giver and birthday celebrator. King of the party hat. Prince of cake.
Take that, new baby.