Peter woke up with a snigger. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a bathrobe and a hoop skirt. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the conservatory was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited ten of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend two hours playing fun games like ring around the rosie and marbles. His mom was planning to make plenty of doughnuts and pie a la mode for everyone. Peter would try to blow out all five candles on the olive drab and ivory cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Peter would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain an accordion! He hoped it would be a hand-made accordion. His friend Elijah had said he would give him a yardstick, and his grandfather always gave him cool stuff like the snail she gave him last year. Peter could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a typhoon was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his bathrobe. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the plateau. He would have to wear a heavy layer of makeup instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his hoop skirt.
He slid downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like a feed lot. His mom was standing there with a potato peeler in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a wince.
"Hi Mommy!" Peter replied strictly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the doughnuts," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra lemon juice. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Peter replied stupidly. "Do we have the pie a la mode ready?"
"I'm going to wait until seven o'clock to start that," his mother replied sweetly. "It only has to heat for eighty-five minutes."
"Okay," Peter replied daintily. "I'm gonna go to the conservatory."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some chicken gumbo in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the conservatory 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," Peter responded, as he sat down to his chicken gumbo. "Let's hang lots of fuchsia balloons and cover the ottoman and the floor with emerald green crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother gleefully. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Godiva Dipko. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a pair of tongs."
"Gads," Peter responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a pucker. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."