The Tea Party

I carelessly threw the myriads of plastic and cardboard pieces to the ground, unaware of where they may have landed. The mess wasn't worth my attention, not when I was the blushing owner of a brand new Barbie tea set. I raised the pale pink teapot above my head--half expecting the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to chime in shouts of hallelujah. I gently placed the prized object down on the kitchen table, then let my fingers lightly dance over every cup, saucer, and dainty spoon in the collection. My awe-filled examination of the set was interrupted by my dad sauntering into the kitchen. I hopped out of my chair and flew into my daddy's arms--no joke. I mean, after receiving my dream toy unexpectedly, I did sorta feel like I was walking on air. "Dad! Look!" I squealed, grabbing my dad's face and turning it towards my prized possession. Dad grabbed my hand, and together we walked towards the table, where I then began informing Dad about all of the pieces in the set, as Dad attentively chimed in with appreciative "oohs" and "awws". "I think it's about time we had ourselves a tea party, don't you?" Dad asked with a smile. I began to nod my head in absolute approval, when Dad interrupted me with a "But you can't go to one dressed like that." My eyebrows raised in amazement. Who knew that my dad was so wise in terms of tea parties? I practically bounced up the stairs and into my room where I changed into my favorite church dress--gold, gaudy, and poofy. I examined my appearance in the mirror, certain that my attire was appropriate for such an event, before I, in what I hoped was a graceful way, descended the stairs. Dad stood up from the kitchen chair, took both of my hands, and said "You look like a princess". We then began our tea party, where we each elegantly held and sipped our tea cups full of drinking water (the only "classy" drink we had in the house--it was slim pickins that day), while I wondered how I could be so lucky to have a prince living in my very house.