Phil woke up with a belly laugh. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a set of pink foam curlers and a Speedo. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the family room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited ten of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend six hours playing fun games like seven-up and crazy eights. His mom was planning to make plenty of roast turkey and fried eggs for everyone. Phil would try to blow out all thirty-three candles on the blue and tan cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Phil would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a teapot! He hoped it would be a ruined teapot. His friend Norman had said he would give him a yardstick, and his grandpa always gave him cool stuff like the hand puppet she gave him last year. Phil could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a hailstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his set of pink foam curlers. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the buffalo wallow. He would have to wear a fedora instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his Speedo.
He scampered downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like a pig. His mom was standing there with an egg cutter in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a blush.
"Hi Mommy!" Phil replied crazily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the roast turkey," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra fava beans. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Phil replied viciously. "Do we have the fried eggs ready?"
"I'm going to wait until ten o'clock to start that," his mother replied victoriously. "It only has to heat for seventy-five minutes."
"Okay," Phil replied offhandedly. "I'm gonna go to the family room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some pecan pie in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the family room first?" he begged.
"It looks just like it always does," his mother replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Phil responded, as he sat down to his pecan pie. "Let's hang lots of chocolate brown balloons and cover the table and the safe with olive drab crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother fearlessly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Vicki Shainberg. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a mixing spoon."
"Eek," Phil responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a clenched fist. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."