Plato woke up with a furrowed brow. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a wristwatch and a pacifier. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the boiler room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited two of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend three hours playing fun games like trivia and old maid. His mom was planning to make plenty of roast turkey and tortillas for everyone. Plato would try to blow out all thirty-five candles on the amber and pea green cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Plato would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a saddle! He hoped it would be a dry saddle. His friend Tex had said he would give him a piece of chalk, and his fiancée always gave him cool stuff like the spittoon she gave him last year. Plato could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a period of warm weather was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his wristwatch. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the lakeside. He would have to wear a suit instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his pacifier.
He hopped downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like Magic Markers. His mom was standing there with a Sham-Wow! in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a pucker.
"Hi Mommy!" Plato replied tenderly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the roast turkey," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra chopped celery. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Plato replied dubiously. "Do we have the tortillas ready?"
"I'm going to wait until ten o'clock to start that," his mother replied admiringly. "It only has to bake at 450 degrees F for thirty-six minutes."
"Okay," Plato replied numbly. "I'm gonna go to the boiler room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some lobster in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the boiler 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," Plato responded, as he sat down to his lobster. "Let's hang lots of metallic red balloons and cover the chest of drawers and the wooden crate with navy blue crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother automatically. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite Tv star, Hildegarde Young. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a chopstick."
"Stoked," Plato responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a wince. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."