1. Happy Birthday to Me

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1 Happy Birthday to Me My name is A.J. and I know what you're thinking. You're wondering why I just put four M&M's in my mouth. Let me explain. If I put just one M&M in my mouth, I would barely taste it. The thing is just too small. It would be like taking a pill.

Two M&M's are twice as much as one M&M, of course. But they're still not enough to get that full chocolate blast after you melt the candy coating in your mouth. Three M&M's are almost enough. But when you put three M&M's in your mouth, you definitely feel like something is missing. Four is the perfect number of M&M's to put in your mouth at one time. Yum! If you put five M&M's in your mouth, well, they're not gonna taste any better than four M&M's. So why do it? And if you're one of those people who pop a whole handful of M&M's in your mouth at once, well, that's just crazy. What a waste of perfectly good M&M's. So there you have it. Now you know

that four is the magic number of M&M's to put in your mouth at one time. You're welcome. "A.J.," my mom said, "the big day is coming. What do you want for your birthday?" "A truck full of M&M's," I replied. "You can't buy a truck full of M&M's," my dad told me. Nine years old. That's a big one. This will be my last single-digit birthday. Once you hit ten years old, you're into double digits. And you know what that means—it's all downhill from there. Not many people live to be a hundred years old and reach triple digits. So once you reach double digits, your life is pretty much over. You might as well move to a nursing home. "Seriously, A.J.," my dad asked,

"what do you want for your birthday? Or what do you want to do for your birthday?" "Can I take a trip to outer space?" I asked. "There are no trips to outer space," my mom replied. "At least not yet." "How about Antarctica?" I suggested. "I've always wanted to go to Antarctica and live with the penguins." "That's a little too far away, A.J.," my dad said. "Can I go bungee jumping off the Empire State Building?" I asked. Bungee jumping off the Empire State Building would be cool.

"I'm pretty sure that's not allowed," said my mom. Parents are such a drag. They never let you do anything that's fun. I wasn't getting anywhere. I would have to ask for something smaller. "How about a fireworks party?" I suggested. "Blowing stuff up is cool." "I don't think our neighbors would appreciate that," said my dad. "If we had a fireworks party, Mr. Kidd next door would probably call the police." Bummer in the summer! No matter what I suggested, my parents came up with some lame reason why we couldn't do it. This was going to be the worst birthday in the history of birthdays. "How about we just have a regular birthday party, A.J.?" suggested my mom. "We'll have all your friends over,