Vic woke up with a glare. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of toe shoes and a T-shirt. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the doghouse was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited seventeen of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend four hours playing fun games like baseball and marbles. His mom was planning to make plenty of sweet potatoes and tuna casserole for everyone. Vic would try to blow out all thirty-three candles on the carrot-orange and camouflage cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Vic would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a key! He hoped it would be an amazing key. His friend Danny had said he would give him a diamond, and his wife always gave him cool stuff like the chart she gave him last year. Vic could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a dust storm was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of toe shoes. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the grassy knoll. He would have to wear a beehive instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his T-shirt.
He dove downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like mint. His mom was standing there with a pastry blender in her hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" she said with a sneer.
"Hi Mommy!" Vic replied pitifully. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the sweet potatoes," she replied. "I decided to make it with extra thinly sliced radishes. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Vic replied boldly. "Do we have the tuna casserole ready?"
"I'm going to wait until six o'clock to start that," his mother replied automatically. "It only has to sauté for thirteen minutes."
"Okay," Vic replied accidentally. "I'm gonna go to the doghouse."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some hash in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the doghouse 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," Vic responded, as he sat down to his hash. "Let's hang lots of brown balloons and cover the wardrobe and the safe with crimson crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his mother grimly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Tracy Hoffmann. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has an electric paint mixer."
"Really," Vic responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Mother with a guffaw. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."