Greg woke up with an evil eye. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pith helmet and a maxi skirt. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the doghouse was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-seven of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend eight hours playing fun games like Snakes and Ladders and bridge. His dad was planning to make plenty of candy and cinnamon toast for everyone. Greg would try to blow out all three candles on the striped and yellow cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Greg would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a pom-pom! He hoped it would be an abnormal pom-pom. His friend Renee had said she would give him a jar of olives, and his grandmother always gave him cool stuff like the flyswatter she gave him last year. Greg could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a drought was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pith helmet. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the cliff. He would have to wear a set of camo fatigues instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his maxi skirt.
He sidled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like smelling salts. His dad was standing there with a grater in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a sniffle.
"Hi Daddy!" Greg replied sadly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the candy," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra bamboo shoots. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Greg replied craftily. "Do we have the cinnamon toast ready?"
"I'm going to wait until nine o'clock to start that," his father replied quietly. "It only has to simmer for sixty-two minutes."
"Okay," Greg replied briskly. "I'm gonna go to the doghouse."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some refried beans in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the doghouse 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," Greg responded, as he sat down to his refried beans. "Let's hang lots of lime-green balloons and cover the couch and the file cabinet with white crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father wearily. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Claudette Wales. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has an ice pick."
"Not so fast," Greg responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a pound of the chest. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."