Frosting Doesn't Smell

By Camille

"Ready, set, jump!" yelled George, the owner of the gym my friends and I were at. I was five years old, and this was my birthday.

I got ready to jump. I leaped backwards onto a big, red, inflatable mat half the size of a gym. I turned and landed on my back. I bounced back up for a few seconds, and when I landed again the air-filled mat sank a little under my weight. I was having the best time, along with my friends.

The only people that didn't go on the mat were my parents, my brother Nick, and my sister Alexis. Instead of jumping on the mat, Nick and Alexis were talking to each other while watching everyone else. They looked like they were having a good time because they were laughing. After they took a turn some of my friends went over too. But I was too happy to notice.

When everyone had a chance to jump onto the mat, we went to the lobby of the gym. While in the lobby, my parents brought out the lunch my parents got at the store. There were so many snacks, all of them my favorites. Fruit, sodas, finger sandwiches, and cocktail wieners scattered the plates of everyone in the room while we talked about school and what a great time everyone was having. The day was getting better and better.

After everyone finished their food, the lights went out and my parents brought out the cake. It was rectangular, with white frosting and red roses on the corners. In the middle it said "Happy Birthday Camille," and I could almost taste it. I was so happy. My mouth was beginning to hurt from smiling so hard. I sat in anxiety while everyone sang "Happy Birthday," and I blew out the candles and made my wish.

When my mom gave me a piece of the cake, my brother Nick and my sister Alexis came over and wished me a happy birthday. But that wasn't all they gave me.

"Hey Camille," said Nick. "Did you know that the frosting smells good?"

"No, I didn't. What does it smell like?" I asked.

"Justšsmell it," said Alexis.

I didn't seem to notice everyone standing in anticipation.

So I smelled the cake. I'm sure that if I had a chance to eat the cake, it would have been sweet, flaky, and savory, but as soon as I brought my face down to what I thought would be a fragrant and tasty smelling frosting, WAM! SQUISH! My brother pushed my head down into the cake. My face was covered in the oozing, slushy wetness onto my now tearful face.

That day I learned something very useful for the future. I learned that no matter what your siblings say, frosting doesn't smell.