Fred woke up with a shout. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a fur coat and a toga. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the laundry room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited five of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend four hours playing fun games like backgammon and cribbage. His dad was planning to make plenty of cinnamon toast and oatmeal for everyone. Fred would try to blow out all thirty candles on the orange and purple cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Fred would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a chess set! He hoped it would be a fuzzy chess set. His friend Francie had said she would give him a joint, and his main squeeze always gave him cool stuff like the can of sardines she gave him last year. Fred could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a downpour was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his fur coat. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the backyard. He would have to wear an armband instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his toga.
He capered downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like dill pickles. His dad was standing there with a meat thermometer in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a woof.
"Hi Daddy!" Fred replied crazily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the cinnamon toast," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra kielbasa. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Fred replied patiently. "Do we have the oatmeal ready?"
"I'm going to wait until eleven o'clock to start that," his father replied blankly. "It only has to melt for thirty-two minutes."
"Okay," Fred replied blissfully. "I'm gonna go to the laundry room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some mushroom quiche in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the laundry 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," Fred responded, as he sat down to his mushroom quiche. "Let's hang lots of sparkly balloons and cover the hammock and the beanbag chair with blue crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father greedily. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Lianlin Price. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a mixing spoon."
"Nuts," Fred responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a grimace. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."