Happy Ninety-Ninth Birthday, Grandma

Tomorrow my family is celebrating my great-grandma's ninety-ninth birthday, but I don't know exactly when her birthday is. We usually go to someplace near Salt Lake City or just somewhere in Utah to hold the party. I have this really annoying cousin that I barely know and he acts like a retarded cowboy. He tries to take control over the games we play and he thinks he knows everything. He's incredibly fat. He always wears stupid cowboy outfits. Ugh, I hope he's not there this year. Although he probably will be, barking the rules of the games to the other players. 

The grandpas and uncles and aunts and grandmas all give speeches about the oldest old person in the family and what a greet mother and grandma and great-grandma she is while all the kids play on a nearby playground or play sports. My cousin Winston and my brother Ethan  can typically be found premeditating fake assassinations or playing a game they call World War II.  They sneak behind the outdoor bathroom and hide there until they see an innocent passerby. Most of the time they stay out of eyeshot the whole party. I usually join them on account of the mean kid that always bothers me. 

Once, last year, some seagulls were hanging around, searching for dropped food on the grass. They perched atop the roof of the bathroom and my dad, Winston, Ethan and I threw rice cakes at them. They'd scuffle all over the roof to get it. Sometimes we threw meat. They loved that. 

I'm hoping the seagulls will remember us this year and come for more food.