It's as celebratory as a firecracker without the pop. A mother skunk and her two young daughters--all fully, and rather fussily clothed--go out to buy the trimmings for Daddy's (he is equally anthropomorphised) birthday. Party-giving novices may be interested in the various birthday favors selected, but it's a very unimaginative collection, from the bland choice of cake on. The text is written in a gushing present tense (at its most misplaced when Daddy tells his little skunk girls ""you smell like a bouquet of flowers""), and the chichi pink and black illustrations are only for the most beruffled children.