Nicholas woke up with a guffaw. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a tarboosh and a pair of combat boots. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the guest room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-five of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend six hours playing fun games like badminton and red rover. His dad was planning to make plenty of borscht and roast Cornish game hen for everyone. Nicholas would try to blow out all twenty-five candles on the olive green and emerald green cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Nicholas would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a needle and thread! He hoped it would be a luxurious needle and thread. His friend Lilya had said she would give him a magazine, and his grandmother always gave him cool stuff like the pearl she gave him last year. Nicholas 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 tarboosh. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the swamp. He would have to wear a pair of briefs instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his pair of combat boots.
He loped downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like biscuits. His dad was standing there with a wooden spoon in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a cringe.
"Hi Daddy!" Nicholas replied shakily. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the borscht," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra corn syrup. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Nicholas replied wildly. "Do we have the roast Cornish game hen ready?"
"I'm going to wait until four o'clock to start that," his father replied shyly. "It only has to simmer for thirty-one minutes."
"Okay," Nicholas replied charmingly. "I'm gonna go to the guest room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some lamb curry in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the guest 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," Nicholas responded, as he sat down to his lamb curry. "Let's hang lots of jet black balloons and cover the bunk bed and the bath mat with periwinkle crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father carefully. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Libby Bower. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a spoon."
"Oh well," Nicholas responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a snort. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."