Dax woke up with a bow. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of galoshes and a coat of mail. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the dining room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-one of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend eight hours playing fun games like badminton and bridge. His dad was planning to make plenty of tortillas and prime rib for everyone. Dax would try to blow out all five candles on the orange and magenta cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Dax would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain an etching! He hoped it would be a crude etching. His friend Iggy had said she would give him a mirror, and his grandpa always gave him cool stuff like the Helmholz resonator she gave him last year. Dax could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a blizzard was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of galoshes. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the buffalo wallow. He would have to wear a big red rose instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his coat of mail.
He rolled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like gardenias. His dad was standing there with a dish cloth in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a jeer.
"Hi Daddy!" Dax replied fiercely. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the tortillas," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra onion powder. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Dax replied daringly. "Do we have the prime rib ready?"
"I'm going to wait until two o'clock to start that," his father replied ingeniously. "It only has to slow cook for sixty-seven minutes."
"Okay," Dax replied suspiciously. "I'm gonna go to the dining room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some fried chicken in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the dining room 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," Dax responded, as he sat down to his fried chicken. "Let's hang lots of purple balloons and cover the credenza and the washing machine with black crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father lickety-split. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite Tv star, Betsy Shainberg. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has an ice pick."
"Holy cats," Dax responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with an evil eye. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."