Charlie woke up with a chortle. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a big grin and a pair of gloves. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the front porch was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-five of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend eight hours playing fun games like treasure hunt and jacks. His dad was planning to make plenty of Froot Loops and fried okra for everyone. Charlie would try to blow out all twenty-six candles on the green and camouflage cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Charlie would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a paperweight! He hoped it would be an electronic paperweight. His friend Mary Lou had said she would give him an iPod, and his main squeeze always gave him cool stuff like the bottle of perfume she gave him last year. Charlie could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a pelting rainstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his big grin. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the cornfield. He would have to wear a maxi skirt instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his pair of gloves.
He slunk downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like gingerbread. His dad was standing there with a fork in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a raspberry.
"Hi Daddy!" Charlie replied nonchalantly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the Froot Loops," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra dill pickles. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Charlie replied strangely. "Do we have the fried okra ready?"
"I'm going to wait until nine o'clock to start that," his father replied mysteriously. "It only has to boil for forty-three minutes."
"Okay," Charlie replied hopefully. "I'm gonna go to the front porch."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some pie a la mode in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the front porch 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," Charlie responded, as he sat down to his pie a la mode. "Let's hang lots of white balloons and cover the credenza and the desk with pea green crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father tearfully. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Eileen Dion. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a dish cloth."
"By Jove," Charlie 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."