The Dazzle Disaster Dinner Party by Sharon M. Draper

Author:Sharon M. Draper [M. Draper, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2013-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

When I get home from school on Monday, even though it is raining outside, I’m in a terrific mood. Lillian can come to the party! I place her RSVP on our refrigerator door with a pink, shiny butterfly magnet that I found in my sack.

“Mom! Can I start making stuff for the party?” I ask.

“Have you done your homework?” Mom always asks that question.

“This is my homework!” I tell her.

“Which recipe are you going to make first?” she asks me.

“The frozen stuff,” I tell her. “It can stay in the freezer all week.”

“Tell me what you’re going to do,” she says.

“I call this one Sassy’s Red Frozen Sparkle Sickles,” I tell her. “I have decided to give every recipe a name. I’m going to give the kids a menu when they get here. Just like in a real restaurant.”

“Do you need my help?” Mom asks.

“I don’t think so,” I reply.

“I’ll just sit here at the table and read the newspaper, okay? You go right ahead.” Mom opens the newspaper and acts like she is ignoring me. But I know she is watching.

I get my recipe list from my Sassy Sack and get out each ingredient. Pineapple juice and fruit punch from the refrigerator. Applesauce and crushed pineapple from the cupboard. Sugar.

“I really like these cool-shaped ice cube trays we got,” I say as I remove their plastic coverings. “Should I use the blue bowl?” I ask Mom. I also find her measuring cup.

“The red one is bigger,” she comments without looking up.

I pull the red one from the cupboard, and just as I’m ready to open the bottle of pineapple juice, Mom says, “Wash your hands, Sassy. And be sure to shake the juice before you pour it.”

I sorta want her to leave me alone, but I’m kinda glad she’s sitting there. I wash my hands, shake the juice, and open the bottle.

I measure out one cup of the pineapple juice. I pour it carefully into the bowl. Not one drop spills. Then I measure one cup of the fruit punch and add that to it. It looks delicious.

“What do I do with the leftover fruit punch?” I ask Mom as I replace the top.

Sabin barges into the room. “I’ll drink it, Sassy!” he says loudly. He reaches for the fruit punch.

“No, Sabin!” I cry out. I snatch the bottle from him. “I might need more. Drink some soda instead. But not the one in the green bottle. That’s for my party.”

Sabin makes a face, but he grabs something else to drink. Then he puts a spoon into the freshly opened jar of applesauce. “Yummy!” he declares.

“Sabin, quit!” I tell him. “I need that for my recipe! Mom, make him stop messing with my stuff!”

Mom looks up from her paper. “Give your sister a break, Sabin,” she says. “If you let her finish making everything, I’m sure she’ll let you sample the finished products.”

“Okay. Okay.” Sabin opens a package of cookies. “Are you using these, too?”

“No. Help yourself.”

He takes about five of them, then saunters out of the kitchen.

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