When I was eight years old I had my best but last birth day ever. It was a hot summery day on July 11th. I was so excited I could hear my heart beating so fast. My mom had already put up all the different colored birthday balloons. I could smell all the hot dogs and hamburgers cooking on the grill. I could hear all the cars pulling up in my drive way. My mom had hired a face painter, clown, a petting zoo, life guard, an ice cone machine, and chefs. Even though I was very excited I remember this was going to be my last exciting birthday. Next year this wasn’t going to happen. When I turned nine the chefs, the face painters, and the petting zoo wasn’t going to be there with me. I felt sad for a little while but then I thought if this was going to be my last exciting birthday ever, then I would have to enjoy every last bit of it to remember. When all the kids in my grade pulled up in their cars and came out with all the presents, I wasn’t as excited for the presents, I was more excited that this was going to be my last and I was going to spend it with my friends and family and have a really fun time!

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