Happy Birthday

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright 2011 Plot Roach.

Happy Birthday

By Plot Roach

It was Harry’s second birthday, and Mom and Dad had been up all night putting together toys and getting the apartment ready for his party. Relatives were flying in from all over the country to wish the little guy a happy birthday, sending gifts ahead of time so that he could play with them as soon as he woke that day.

“Is the cake ready?” Dad asked.

“It’s already frosted,” Mom said. “Candles ready to light and waiting on the kitchen counter.

“Do mini tricycles always have to be so hard to put together?”

“Yes. Ever since the invention of the wheel and the first toddler’s birthday, I would assume.”

Dad gave Mom a sour face and went back to the instructions that came with the bike. “I swear these things are in a different language, but I can see clearly that it’s in English.”

“Maybe you would be better off trying the section in French, dear.”

“Ha ha. Hand me that screwdriver, please.”

“Giving up on the bike?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m trying the Big Boy Potty Seat next.”

“Don’t get pooped before you finish.” Mom snickered.

All through the night, the two made preparations for their son’s party. Relatives began arriving at five that morning, tip toeing around the place and helping where they could.

“I see the new toy.” Uncle Daniel said, pointing to the big screen television on the wall.

“Yeah. We couldn’t resist it.” Dad said. "We thought we’d get ourselves a little something while we stocked up on things for Harry.”

At last the time came, when Mom went into the Harry’s room. She dressed him as he slowly warmed to consciousness. “It’s time, my little guy.” she whispered. “It’s your big day.” She took him by the hand and lead him to the living room where everyone waited for him.

“Happy Birthday!” they all yelled in unison. Harry’s eyes lit up, traveling from one relative to the other. The candles lit, the cake was presented, but Dad had to help the little guy blow them all out. “Hope it was a good wish, son.” He said to Harry, as he let the squiggly little toddler off his lap and onto the floor. Harry made a beeline for the pile of presents and each relative waited with baited breath to see which one he would go to first.

“He’s got his parents’ good taste” said uncle Daniel as the group laughed, leaving Mom and Dad red-faced with embarrassment as Harry stood in the living room, television remote in his mouth. He was too busy smiling and changing the channels on the television by chewing on the buttons to notice the rest of his presents.