My birthday was just yesterday,
and now I’m finally eight.
My birthday party was okay,
but it sure wasn’t great.
My mother hired Sam the Clown,
a really funny guy,
but clowns just freak out Sarah Jones,
and that girl sure can cry.
And then I fought with Henry Brown
who is a little creep.
The present that he brought for me,
he said he planned to keep.
I told him that the gift was mine
and wasn’t his to take.
I told him that he had to give,
or he wouldn’t get some cake.
Mom then told me, as the host,
I had to be polite,
and if dumb Henry did not give,
well — that was Henry’s right.
Later, Mrs. Brown arrived
to pick up Henry Brown,
and when she saw he had the gift,
you should have seen her frown.
She made him give me what was mine
while Henry stood and cried.
She made her son apologize,
and I smiled as he lied.
I know that Henry’s really mad,
no matter what he said,
and I expect when he got home,
he had to go to bed.
So though my party wasn’t great,
it wasn’t all that bad,
and I just can’t stop smiling
cause I know that Henry’s mad.