Dax woke up with a giggle. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a mask and a tie. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the foyer was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-one of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend six hours playing fun games like Candy Land and billiards. His dad was planning to make plenty of pumpkin pie and squash blossom soup for everyone. Dax would try to blow out all two candles on the lime-green and beige cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Dax would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a basketball! He hoped it would be a gleaming basketball. His friend Gilda had said she would give him a spinning wheel, and his grandmother always gave him cool stuff like the baton she gave him last year. Dax could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a typhoon was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his mask. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the bog. He would have to wear a tunic instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his tie.
He bounced downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like Elizabeth Arden. His dad was standing there with a wooden spoon in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a snicker.
"Hi Daddy!" Dax replied carefully. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the pumpkin pie," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra marshmallows. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Dax replied irritably. "Do we have the squash blossom soup ready?"
"I'm going to wait until eight o'clock to start that," his father replied cruelly. "It only has to fry suavely in cheap skillet for eighty-seven minutes."
"Okay," Dax replied ignobly. "I'm gonna go to the foyer."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some potatoes and gravy in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the foyer first?" he begged.
"It looks just like it always does," his father replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Dax responded, as he sat down to his potatoes and gravy. "Let's hang lots of khaki balloons and cover the catbird seat and the windowsill with grey crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father joyously. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Hagit Montoya. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a meat thermometer."
"Diddly poo," Dax responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a sniffle. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."