Randall woke up with a hoot. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a beard and a corset. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the outhouse was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited three of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend three hours playing fun games like Cootie and red rover. His mom was planning to make plenty of lime sherbet and spaghetti for everyone. Randall would try to blow out all fourteen candles on the navy blue and purple cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Randall would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain an avocado! He hoped it would be a polka-dotted avocado. His friend Dax had said he would give him a banana, and his dad always gave him cool stuff like the box of candy she gave him last year. Randall could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a humid day was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his beard. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the canyon. He would have to wear a sombrero instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his corset.
He tiptoed downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like formaldehyde. His mom was standing there with a pair of chopsticks in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a hiccup.
"Hi Mommy!" Randall replied haughtily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the lime sherbet," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra oatmeal. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Randall replied vacantly. "Do we have the spaghetti ready?"
"I'm going to wait until ten o'clock to start that," his mother replied ignobly. "It only has to slow cook for eighty-eight minutes."
"Okay," Randall replied threateningly. "I'm gonna go to the outhouse."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some chicken pot pie in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the outhouse 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," Randall responded, as he sat down to his chicken pot pie. "Let's hang lots of amber balloons and cover the wardrobe and the bunk bed with brown crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother mysteriously. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Tracy Lyman. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a cookie cutter."
"Avast," Randall responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a power fist. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."