Ichabod woke up with a sniff. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a sport coat and a pair of boxing gloves. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the living room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-five of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend five hours playing fun games like jump rope and old maid. His dad was planning to make plenty of mashed potatoes and dry toast for everyone. Ichabod would try to blow out all twenty-six candles on the red and turquoise cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Ichabod would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a bouquet! He hoped it would be a grubby bouquet. His friend Pallavi had said she would give him an advertisement, and his mother always gave him cool stuff like the can of soup she gave him last year. Ichabod 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 sport coat. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the neighborhood. He would have to wear a pair of handcuffs instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his pair of boxing gloves.
He slumped downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like cherry pie. His dad was standing there with a cookie cutter in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a smile.
"Hi Daddy!" Ichabod replied timidly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the mashed potatoes," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra apple slices. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Ichabod replied thoughtfully. "Do we have the dry toast ready?"
"I'm going to wait until eight o'clock to start that," his father replied grimly. "It only has to deep fry for twelve minutes."
"Okay," Ichabod replied primly. "I'm gonna go to the living room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some hamburgers in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the living room 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," Ichabod responded, as he sat down to his hamburgers. "Let's hang lots of lime-green balloons and cover the settee and the dishwasher with olive green crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father miserably. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite Tv star, Chelsea Ling. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a paring knife."
"Great balls of fire," Ichabod responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a laugh. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."