Clifford woke up with a grunt. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of combat boots and a big red rose. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the conservatory was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited twenty-four of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend eight hours playing fun games like Parcheesi and cribbage. His dad was planning to make plenty of sushi and beans for everyone. Clifford would try to blow out all six candles on the scarlet and carrot-orange cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Clifford would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a hammer! He hoped it would be a chic hammer. His friend Doris had said she would give him a bottle of perfume, and his grandmother always gave him cool stuff like the kite she gave him last year. Clifford could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a snowstorm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of combat boots. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the forest. He would have to wear a negligee instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his big red rose.
He sauntered downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like nachos. His dad was standing there with a blender in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a sniffle.
"Hi Daddy!" Clifford replied effortlessly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the sushi," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra green chiles. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Clifford replied kindly. "Do we have the beans ready?"
"I'm going to wait until three o'clock to start that," his father replied accidentally. "It only has to poach lightly for seventy-six minutes."
"Okay," Clifford replied patiently. "I'm gonna go to the conservatory."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some dry toast in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the conservatory 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," Clifford responded, as he sat down to his dry toast. "Let's hang lots of blue balloons and cover the armoire and the mattress with turquoise crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father woefully. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Mabel Riggs. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a garlic press."
"Man alive," Clifford responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a woof. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."