Corbin woke up with a finger gun. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a shirt and a poodle skirt. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the foyer was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited nineteen of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend two hours playing fun games like badminton and chess. His dad was planning to make plenty of tacos and pot roast for everyone. Corbin would try to blow out all four candles on the jet black and golden cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Corbin would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a whistle! He hoped it would be a damaged whistle. His friend Gillian had said she would give him a billiard ball, and his cousin always gave him cool stuff like the calculator she gave him last year. Corbin could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a hurricane was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his shirt. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the cliff. He would have to wear a tarboosh instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his poodle skirt.
He scurried downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like plastic. His dad was standing there with a cookie cutter in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a chortle.
"Hi Daddy!" Corbin replied accidentally. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the tacos," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra bacon. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Corbin replied ferociously. "Do we have the pot roast ready?"
"I'm going to wait until twelve o'clock to start that," his father replied vigorously. "It only has to age for fifty-eight minutes."
"Okay," Corbin replied deliberately. "I'm gonna go to the foyer."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some ramen noodles 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," Corbin responded, as he sat down to his ramen noodles. "Let's hang lots of green balloons and cover the table and the buffet with crimson crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father angrily. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Erica Bing. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a grater."
"Hold that thought," Corbin responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with an evil eye. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."