Michael woke up with a roar. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of boxing gloves and a hoop skirt. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the servant's quarters was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited thirty of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend five hours playing fun games like Parcheesi and Mother May I. His dad was planning to make plenty of fish and chips and chicken soup for everyone. Michael would try to blow out all thirty-four candles on the chartreuse and azure cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Michael would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a hair dryer! He hoped it would be a woven hair dryer. His friend Candi had said she would give him an urn, and his sister always gave him cool stuff like the doll she gave him last year. Michael could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a sleet storm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of boxing gloves. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the marsh. He would have to wear a kilt instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his hoop skirt.
He skipped downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like nail polish. His dad was standing there with a melon baller in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a wince.
"Hi Daddy!" Michael replied suspiciously. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the fish and chips," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra thyme. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Michael replied uselessly. "Do we have the chicken soup ready?"
"I'm going to wait until seven o'clock to start that," his father replied ingeniously. "It only has to place on serving dish for thirty-seven minutes."
"Okay," Michael replied stealthily. "I'm gonna go to the servant's quarters."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some French fries in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the servant's quarters 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," Michael responded, as he sat down to his French fries. "Let's hang lots of beige balloons and cover the counter and the wine rack with orange crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father hysterically. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Fifi Craft. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a potato masher."
"Ay caramba," Michael responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a wag of the finger. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."