"Daddy go be sur-PRIZE!" echoed his little brother, Max.

The young boys were in the kitchen early Saturday morning, preparing breakfast for their father's birthday.

"The stove's a no-no!"

"So we'll use the microwave, Maxie. Get some eggs." The pair proceeded to neatly arrange a potato, six strips of fatty bacon and two broken eggs (with just a hint of shell) on the prettiest plate from the china cupboard. They placed it inside the microwave oven, wiped slimy fingers on their shirts, and inspected the dial as best they could.

"I think it takes one hour to cook potatoes," said Charlie.

"Is that what Mommy does?"

"You know Mommy can't cook! I think it takes one hour."

"One ow-uh," echoed Max.

The boys went outside to fill a bucket with water from the garden hose to wash Daddy's truck. A massive chore loomed before them.

"We can't wash all this!"

"Don't worry, Maxie. It's dirtiest down here because it's closer to the ground. We'll just wash as high as we can reach."

"It's awful duh-ty!"

"Mommy says S.O.S. makes the pans shiny." The boys scrambled to collect scrubby sponges, S.O.S. pads, and a canister of Comet just to be on the safe side.

"Wha'cha doin'?" A three-and-a-half-year-old angel with a halo of blonde curls had arrived to survey the boys' activity.

"We're washing Daddy's truck!" informed Max.

"I wanna wash the twuck," announced the girl.

"You're too little, Dot," scolded Charlie. "Go color a picture."

"Yeah," echoed Max. "Color a pitcher."

The boys took turns rinsing off the lower panels, marveling at the pretty colors in the waste water. Surely all those cleaners were doing their magic. Little Dot stood at the top of the driveway, arms crossed over her jumper, supervising those mean brothers who wouldn't let her do anything fun.

"What now?" asked Max, wiping wet fingers on his jeans, already soaked from the overspray. "I know! Let's shine Daddy's shoes!" A dress pair of Florsheims lay abandoned in the foyer after a week with Daddy at the office.

"I don't know how to shine shoes," confessed Charlie. "But I know how to turn on the washing machine!" The brightness of this idea glowed in the faces of Charlie and Max as they ran inside to restore the gleam on Daddy's shoes.

Dot watched the boys run inside the house. The slamming of the screen door made her little eyes blink hard. "I'm not too little!" she declared. "I can wash inside Daddy's twuck."

Like the big girl she was, Dot carefully unscrewed the gas cap and put the still-running garden hose inside. Daddy will be so happy!

"Daddy's coming!" Charlie whispered to Max. "Get his tomato juice!" The boys had decided to play it safe by serving juice with their splendid breakfast. They weren't quite sure how to use the coffee-making machine.

"Daddy likes to shake his tomato juice fust," declared Max. He grabbed a can, shook it up and hurried to join his brother. Daddy appeared in the doorway just as Charlie popped open the Budweiser.

"Kk-chhhhh!"

"SURPRISE!"