Michael woke up with a jeer. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a motorcycle helmet and a bib. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the atrium was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited fifteen of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend seven hours playing fun games like backgammon and dominos. His mom was planning to make plenty of scrambled eggs and refried beans for everyone. Michael would try to blow out all twenty-three candles on the emerald green and purple cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Michael would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a paintbrush! He hoped it would be a sophisticated paintbrush. His friend Perry had said he would give him a carrot, and his friend always gave him cool stuff like the saddle she gave him last year. Michael could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a lightning storm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his motorcycle helmet. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the swamp. He would have to wear a pair of boxing gloves instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his bib.
He climbed downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like maple syrup. His mom was standing there with an electric paint mixer in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a sigh.
"Hi Mommy!" Michael replied steadily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the scrambled eggs," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra lettuce. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Michael replied gleefully. "Do we have the refried beans ready?"
"I'm going to wait until six o'clock to start that," his mother replied hopelessly. "It only has to poach lightly for thirty-five minutes."
"Okay," Michael replied dolorously. "I'm gonna go to the atrium."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some Froot Loops in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the atrium 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," Michael responded, as he sat down to his Froot Loops. "Let's hang lots of maroon balloons and cover the futon and the china hutch with tan crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother shyly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite Tv star, Vicki Rush. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has an electric paint mixer."
"Bah," Michael responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a yawn. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."