Ichabod woke up with a face palm. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of suspenders and a pair of nylons. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the workshop was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited nine of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend six hours playing fun games like dominos and tennis. His dad was planning to make plenty of chicken soup and crumb cake for everyone. Ichabod would try to blow out all two candles on the peach and navy blue cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Ichabod would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a magazine! He hoped it would be a small magazine. His friend Vanessa had said she would give him a Bunsen burner, and his mom always gave him cool stuff like the pacifier she gave him last year. Ichabod could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a typhoon was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of suspenders. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the peninsula. He would have to wear a diaper instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his pair of nylons.
He tumbled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like biscuits. His dad was standing there with a basting brush in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a backward glance.
"Hi Daddy!" Ichabod replied needlessly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the chicken soup," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra shelled pecans. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Ichabod replied coldly. "Do we have the crumb cake ready?"
"I'm going to wait until nine o'clock to start that," his father replied craftily. "It only has to allow to rise in warm place for several hours for seventy-five minutes."
"Okay," Ichabod replied properly. "I'm gonna go to the workshop."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some pizza in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the workshop 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," Ichabod responded, as he sat down to his pizza. "Let's hang lots of magenta balloons and cover the wardrobe and the display case with sparkly crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father lickety-split. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Crystal Arp. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a sharp knife."
"Bless my britches," Ichabod responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a gasp. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."