(A/N. Hi. Here's a silly little short story I wrote for my American Lit. class to demonstrate the "American Dream". 50s AU)

White kitchen curtains swayed in the wind. A gentle summer breeze came in through the open windows, bringing with it the sounds of laughing children. The smell of baked goods wafted around the soft teal kitchen.

There was a lone woman in the room, frosting a cake. Her curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a neon blue ribbon, and she had on a soft pink polka-dotted cocktail dress. Her icy blue eyes squinted as her hands carefully made fun frosting patterns in the cake.

Finally, the brunette felt satisfied with her craft. She grabbed a box of matches and candles from the cabinet, picked up the cake, and walked outside into the backyard.

Out in the yard-that was surrounded by a white picket fence- the woman found her family. Her teenage son was sitting under the large weeping willow tree, reading a book. Her husband was playing catch with their daughter, and her youngest son seemed to be making a bouquet of dandelions. She placed the cake on the patio's table and started sticking candles in it.

"Kids! N! Cake is ready!"

Her entire family came running. Well, except for her oldest, who seemed to be irritated at the interruption. Her daughter, Juniper, was the first to make it to the table. She sat closest to the cake, tapping her hands on the table in excitement.

The woman's husband came up behind her and placed a kiss on her temple.

"Nice cake, Hilda." N cooed, putting an arm around her waist.

Their teenager rolled his eyes, disgusted at his parents' minor displays of affection. He sat next to his little sister, ruffling her hair. Hilda's youngest tugged on her dress.

"Mommy...I picked these for you." He said quietly.

Hilda leaned down and took the weeds from her son, "Well aren't you sweet, Gray? Thank you."

Gray grinned and earned a thumbs up from his father. He scurried away to the seat across from Juniper.

Hilda handed the box of matches to N and he went to light the candles. As the family began to sing "Happy birthday" to the little girl, a warm breeze blew the windchimes in harmony.