Clifton woke up with a smirk. Today was his birthday! He was going to have a lot of fun today. First, he would dress up in a pair of Reeboks and a cheerleader's uniform. Then, he would run downstairs to see if the oubliette was decorated and ready for the party. They had invited four of his closest friends. When everyone arrived, they would spend two hours playing fun games like Scrabble and Simon Says. His dad was planning to make plenty of pie a la mode and cabbage for everyone. Clifton would try to blow out all twenty candles on the lime-green and navy blue cake. While the guests were eating their cake, Clifton would be opening his gifts. Maybe the first package would contain a bag of potato chips! He hoped it would be a dry bag of potato chips. His friend Motormouth had said she would give him a box of candy, and his grandpa always gave him cool stuff like the tennis racket she gave him last year. Clifton could hardly wait!
He glanced out the window and was surprised to see that a tornado was on its way. Hopefully, that wouldn't deter anyone from coming. He looked in his closet for his pair of Reeboks. It wasn't there. Uh oh. It was still dirty from his day at the mountain. He would have to wear a pair of handcuffs instead. He didn't really care, as long as he could still wear his cheerleader's uniform.
He whirled downstairs and went into the kitchen. It smelled like lilies. His dad was standing there with an electric paint mixer in his hand. "Happy Birthday Son!" he said with a furrowed brow.
"Hi Daddy!" Clifton replied doubtfully. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making the pie a la mode," he replied. "I decided to make it with extra potato flakes. Hope that's okay with you."
"I guess so," Clifton replied offhandedly. "Do we have the cabbage ready?"
"I'm going to wait until five o'clock to start that," his father replied wearily. "It only has to mix smoothly for sixty-one minutes."
"Okay," Clifton replied timidly. "I'm gonna go to the oubliette."
"First, young man, you need to have some breakfast. I've got some mashed potatoes in the skillet for you."
"Can't I just take a peek at the oubliette 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," Clifton responded, as he sat down to his mashed potatoes. "Let's hang lots of burgundy balloons and cover the ottoman and the stairway with green crepe paper."
"That's fine," said his father sweetly. "The paper plates and napkins have pictures of your favorite singer, Henrietta Smiley. Set the table with them, and make sure everyone has a blender."
"Yikes," Clifton responded. "I'm done, can I get started with the decorating now?"
"I think you inhaled your food," said Father with a stiff upper lip. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."