Lance woke up with a wince. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a parka and a bomber jacket. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the family room was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-one of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend three hours playing fun games like croquet and battleship. His mom was planning to make plenty of blueberry pie and spaghetti for everyone. Lance would try to blow out all thirty candles on the rose and azure cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Lance would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a key! He hoped it would be a flaky key. His friend Beelzebub had said he would give him a plaque, and his mentor always gave him cool stuff like the candle she gave him last year. Lance could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a driving rain was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his parka. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the beach. He would have to wear a business suit instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his bomber jacket.
He waded downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like orange peel. His mom was standing there with a dull knife in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a bow.
"Hi Mommy!" Lance replied ingeniously. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the blueberry pie," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra lettuce. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Lance replied ruefully. "Do we have the spaghetti ready?"
"I'm going to wait until nine o'clock to start that," his mother replied gently. "It only has to bake at 450 degrees F for sixteen minutes."
"Okay," Lance replied thoughtfully. "I'm gonna go to the family room."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some chopped liver in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the family room 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," Lance responded, as he sat down to his chopped liver. "Let's hang lots of camouflage balloons and cover the bench and the wooden crate with yellow crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother grimly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Marjorie Trott. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a meat thermometer."
"Diddly bunk," Lance responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a bound. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."