Boots woke up with a snuffle. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a false beard and a tank top. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the rec room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited thirty of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend five hours playing fun games like marbles and tag. His mom was planning to make plenty of ceviche and clam chowder for everyone. Boots would try to blow out all eleven candles on the lime-green and maroon cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Boots would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a yo-yo! He hoped it would be an ornate yo-yo. His friend Rufus had said he would give him a Frisbee, and his grandmother always gave him cool stuff like the feather she gave him last year. Boots could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a gale was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his false beard. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the veld. He would have to wear a birthday suit instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his tank top.
He rushed downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like anise. His mom was standing there with an egg cutter in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a kiss.
"Hi Mommy!" Boots replied rapidly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the ceviche," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra Cheerios. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Boots replied sharply. "Do we have the clam chowder ready?"
"I'm going to wait until five o'clock to start that," his mother replied majestically. "It only has to grill for thirty-two minutes."
"Okay," Boots replied firmly. "I'm gonna go to the rec room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some pancakes in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the rec 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," Boots responded, as he sat down to his pancakes. "Let's hang lots of hot pink balloons and cover the beanbag chair and the TV with black crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother sternly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Irma Backus. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a strainer."
"Ho hum," Boots responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a raised eyebrow. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."