"This will not do." "
"I told you I want everything to be perfect."
"I want white tulips. Don't you know the difference between white and cream?"
That was just the preliminary chaos that awaited their busy household when he entered the hallway as his mother's voice filled the entire room with all her complaints.
"How is everything?" He dared to ask, seeing that nothing seemed out of place.
Although he would not know about party preparations, based on what his eyes could see, all seemed almost perfect.
Nonetheless, less than perfection would not do with his mother. She did not accept sloppy work or second best.
"Terrible." Mrs. Frances Hawkins, his mother, announced with an exasperated sigh as she waved her hands in utter annoyance.
"I don't see anything wrong." He expressed confusion as his eyes wandered around the room, checking the expensive decorations, the vibrant flowers, and even the brilliant chandeliers that hung brightly on the ceilings.
