Ichabod woke up with a roar. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a loincloth and a surgical mask. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the kitchen was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited eight of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend four hours playing fun games like chess and golf. His mom was planning to make plenty of macaroni and cheese and prime rib for everyone. Ichabod would try to blow out all seven candles on the brown and forest green cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Ichabod would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a hammer! He hoped it would be a ridiculous hammer. His friend Cory had said he would give him a bouquet, and his mother always gave him cool stuff like the notepad she gave him last year. Ichabod could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that an earthquake was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his loincloth. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the park. He would have to wear a coat instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his surgical mask.
He skittered downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like pepper. His mom was standing there with a pair of chopsticks in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a wrinkled nose.
"Hi Mommy!" Ichabod replied suavely. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the macaroni and cheese," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra fava beans. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Ichabod replied wearily. "Do we have the prime rib ready?"
"I'm going to wait until seven o'clock to start that," his mother replied suspiciously. "It only has to heat in microwave for sixty-eight minutes."
"Okay," Ichabod replied demurely. "I'm gonna go to the kitchen."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some tacos in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the kitchen 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," Ichabod responded, as he sat down to his tacos. "Let's hang lots of peach balloons and cover the windowsill and the rug with jade crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother crankily. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Betsy Grover. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a meat tenderizer."
"Bada bing bada boom," Ichabod responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a flush. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."