Vilmer woke up with a power fist. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a skirt and a pacifier. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the tool shed was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited two of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend eight hours playing fun games like hide and seek and volleyball. His dad was planning to make plenty of bonbons and wienerschnitzel for everyone. Vilmer would try to blow out all twenty-nine candles on the jade and yellow cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Vilmer would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a Molotov cocktail! He hoped it would be a queer Molotov cocktail. His friend Camella had said she would give him an apple, and his main squeeze always gave him cool stuff like the avocado she gave him last year. Vilmer 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 skirt. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the pasture. He would have to wear a flour sack instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his pacifier.
He scurried downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like smoked fish. His dad was standing there with an electric paint mixer in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a shout.
"Hi Daddy!" Vilmer replied trustingly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the bonbons," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra sweetened condensed milk. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Vilmer replied diligently. "Do we have the wienerschnitzel ready?"
"I'm going to wait until ten o'clock to start that," his father replied lamely. "It only has to slow cook for eighty-two minutes."
"Okay," Vilmer replied sadly. "I'm gonna go to the tool shed."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some sauerkraut 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 father replied. "Remember, I'm depending on you to help with the decorating."
"Oh yeah," Vilmer responded, as he sat down to his sauerkraut. "Let's hang lots of beige balloons and cover the cash register and the rocking chair with golden crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father sternly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Beulah Darnell. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a basting brush."
"My gosh," Vilmer responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a furrowed brow. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."