Jackson woke up with a grin. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a bandana and a wig. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the game room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited nineteen of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend six hours playing fun games like cribbage and pool. His mom was planning to make plenty of cinnamon toast and crumb cake for everyone. Jackson would try to blow out all seventeen candles on the polka dotted and chartreuse cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Jackson would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a snail! He hoped it would be a broken snail. His friend Oliver had said he would give him a baseball, and his mommy always gave him cool stuff like the pencil sharpener she gave him last year. Jackson could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a dense fog was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his bandana. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the steppe. He would have to wear a gun belt instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his wig.
He waded downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like rose petals. His mom was standing there with a knife in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a face palm.
"Hi Mommy!" Jackson replied perkily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the cinnamon toast," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra kosher salt. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Jackson replied hysterically. "Do we have the crumb cake ready?"
"I'm going to wait until seven o'clock to start that," his mother replied proudly. "It only has to whirl for seventy-one minutes."
"Okay," Jackson replied testily. "I'm gonna go to the game room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some omelet in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the game 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," Jackson responded, as he sat down to his omelet. "Let's hang lots of fuchsia balloons and cover the coffee table and the workbench with fuchsia crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother brightly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Melkadas Cantrell. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a fork."
"Uh," Jackson responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a pout. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."