Mac woke up with a raised eyebrow. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a sundress and a blanket. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the tool shed was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited four of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend seven hours playing fun games like Snakes and Ladders and hide and seek. His mom was planning to make plenty of squash blossom soup and fried eggs for everyone. Mac would try to blow out all twenty-five candles on the grey and burgundy cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Mac would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a whistle! He hoped it would be a wet whistle. His friend Jimmy had said he would give him a daisy, and his wife always gave him cool stuff like the stack of papers she gave him last year. Mac could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a blanket of mist was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his sundress. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the cliff. He would have to wear a hair net instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his blanket.
He skipped downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like liver and onions. His mom was standing there with a foot in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a snarl.
"Hi Mommy!" Mac replied dolorously. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the squash blossom soup," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra chopped pecans. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Mac replied courageously. "Do we have the fried eggs ready?"
"I'm going to wait until two o'clock to start that," his mother replied arrogantly. "It only has to whirl for fifty minutes."
"Okay," Mac replied peevishly. "I'm gonna go to the tool shed."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some burritos in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the tool shed 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," Mac responded, as he sat down to his burritos. "Let's hang lots of black balloons and cover the umbrella stand and the ironing board with beige crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother boisterously. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Briget Phillips. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a ladle."
"Aha," Mac responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a glare. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."