She Slapped My Daughter at Her Own Birthday Party—Then I Saw Who Had All Her Presents.

The backyard had been decorated as if the family were celebrating someone important.

White ribbons fluttered from the fence. Strings of tiny lights hung between the trees, even though the afternoon sun still flooded the garden. A long table had been covered with pale linen, crystal glasses, silver serving trays, and enough food to feed twice the number of guests.

At the center stood a gigantic bone-shaped cake covered in white frosting.

It was surrounded by expensive little gifts.

Every one of them had a name attached.

None had Lula’s name.

Seven-year-old Lula Fairmont stood near the edge of the lawn in her yellow birthday dress, holding her hands together as she watched the guests laugh.

It was supposed to be her birthday.

She had spent the entire morning excited.

Her mother, Taryn, had promised her that there would be balloons, cake, games, and presents. Lula had even practiced blowing out the candles because she wanted to make a wish that she would remember forever.

But somehow, as the afternoon continued, Lula felt more and more like she was standing inside someone else’s party.

Her grandmother, Doreen, had barely looked at her.

Instead, Doreen had spent most of the afternoon fussing over the favored cousin’s small white poodle.

The dog wore a tiny decorative ribbon around its neck.

People kept crouching down to take pictures of it.

Guests brought gifts for it.

One woman even laughed that the dog deserved its own birthday cake.

Lula had smiled weakly when she heard that.

She tried not to complain.

She had learned that complaining around Grandma Doreen only made things worse.

Then Lula reached toward the cake table.

She wasn't trying to take anything.