The next morning, brilliant rays of early morning sunlight streamed in through the round window of Frodo’s bedroom, flooding part of the room and landing on the young hobbit’s serene face. The bright light and resulting warmth upon his face gradually woke the lad from a peaceful sleep. Frodo stretched his body out and yawned before turning over and facing away from the window. He nestled under his quilt, reveling in its softness and cozy warmth; he was too comfortable to get up just yet and so he curled up once more to fall back asleep. Besides, he didn't smell first breakfast being cooked yet. His sleepy mind reflected on what a perfect day yesterday had been and he nodded off with a sweet smile gracing his lips, feelings of happiness and love resounding in his heart.

One hour later, the sun had risen higher in the clear blue sky and the light coming through the window shifted. It now flooded the entire bedroom and it was shining directly onto Frodo’s closed eyes. Awake once more, he grumbled and wondered why the curtains hadn’t been drawn closed over the window last night. The more he thought about it, he realized that he didn’t even remember going to bed last night. Bilbo must have tucked him in.

As much as he knew Uncle Bilbo enjoyed taking care of him and providing for him, Frodo likewise enjoyed seeing to it that the older hobbit was cared for as well. He understood that Bilbo had given up much of his former freedoms in order to adopt him and assume the responsibility of guardianship over him until he came of age. It was because of him that his uncle hadn’t gone out on any of his long walking trips this past year, even despite Frodo's suggestions and hints that they could go on a ramble together. Bilbo had said no, choosing instead to remain confined at Bag End with a young tweenager for the time-being. So far Bilbo didn’t appear to seem to mind, but Frodo was upset about the fact and didn’t want his uncle to become unhappy or change his lifestyle because of him. Frodo enjoyed the feeling of being wanted and loved so much, but he was also used to doing for himself and didn’t like to be an imposition or a bother to anyone. He didn’t want to disappoint Bilbo in any way or make him regret adopting him. He wanted his uncle to be proud of him.

Sitting up in his bed with a sigh, Frodo soon discovered the large wrapped parcel sitting mysteriously on the window seat of his room. “When did that get there?” he wondered aloud. He didn’t remember seeing it there yesterday. And who put it there?

Curious, he crawled the length of his bed and reached out a hand trying to get a hold of what looked like a tag affixed to the strands of brightly colored ribbon. He snatched his hand back when he heard the door to the bathing room open and Bilbo’s soft footsteps sound from the hallway.

Tossing aside his blankets, Frodo scampered out of bed and down the curved hallway, sliding to a halt on the tiled floor of the kitchen. Bilbo, still clad in his nightshirt and dressing gown, was standing at the water pump with the kettle in hand.

“Good morning, Frodo-lad!” he greeted cheerfully. He didn’t have to wonder for long if his nephew had spotted the gift sitting in his room. The lad was positively bursting with energy and looked ready to start jumping up and down at any given moment. Oh, to be that young again!

“Good morning, Uncle Bilbo!” Frodo greeted, giving his uncle a quick hug about the waist before stepping back to help with the preparations of first breakfast.

Pleased that the lad helped out with the keeping of the smial all the time without him ever asking, Bilbo turned and put the kettle on it’s iron hook over the slow-burning fire in the hearth, for the water to heat. He counted the seconds, waiting for Frodo to spill forth. It didn’t take very long.

“Uncle, there is a wrapped parcel in my room!” Frodo exclaimed whilst setting the kitchen table for two.

Bilbo turned from where he had been cracking eggs into the skillet on the wrought iron stove built into the side of the large fireplace. “Is there now?” he said as nonchalantly as he could. Several cold, smoked sausage links joined the eggs in the frying pan.

“Yes! Do you know what it is or who it’s from?”

Bilbo turned his back to the tween, lest his grinning like a fool give him away too soon. It wasn’t often he could get away with things like this with Frodo being such a sharp and bright lad, but this was just too much fun to resist this morning. “I know,” he said finally over the crackle of the sizzling sausage in the pan.

“You do?” Frodo stopped paying attention to what he was doing and nearly spilled the apple juice he was pouring from an earthenware pitcher into two glasses. He realized just in the nick of time to keep the second glass from overflowing onto the table.

Bilbo chuckled. For all his smarts, Frodo sometimes wasn’t too quick on the upstart in the early morning hours. He turned around to face his nephew and heir. “Of course I know. Who do you think left it there? An Elf lord? Now, do you want your eggs sunny-side up or scrambled this morning?”

Frodo’s mouth dropped open. “Uh, scrambled please. But … but why? You already gave me a birthday mathom yesterday before noontime.” He moved on to help prepare the morning tea, making sure there were enough fresh leaves in the tea ball before letting it dangle inside of the flowered china teapot.

Bilbo finished scrambling the eggs and gave the sausages a final poke with a fork before dishing them out onto the waiting plates. He sliced what was left of the cinnamon-raisin bread before pouring the now boiling water from the iron kettle into the waiting teapot. As the tea steeped inside the pot, he turned and knelt so he was face to face with his nephew, grasping his upper arms gently, wanting to make sure he had the tweenager’s full attention.

“This one is different, Frodo my lad,” he began. “This one is something very special … something I think you’re old enough for now and ready to have. Come now, let us have first breakfast and then you can open it.”

Without delay, the two hobbits sat down at the little wooden table in the kitchen to enjoy their first breakfast together. Both of them ate a bit quicker than normal for hobbits in their eagerness to get first breakfast done with and on to matters more important than food this morning.

After filling up the corners and leaving the dirty dishes to wash later on, Bilbo escorted Frodo to the lad’s bedroom where he first helped the young hobbit to make the bed. Frodo was being so good, so patient even though it was very easy to see that he was extremely curious and excited with anticipation. The lad kept eyeing the large parcel as he hurriedly pulled up his down quilts and smoothed out the wrinkles. The bed made, Bilbo had Frodo sit down comfortably on it before retrieving the bulky parcel from the cushioned window seat.

“I think you’ve waiting long enough, Frodo-lad. Here,” Bilbo said, placing the gift on Frodo’s lap before sitting on the bed beside the boy.

“It’s so heavy,” Frodo exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He ran his small hands over the fancy wrapping paper, but could not discern what lay hidden underneath. He looked up at his uncle questioningly.

“Well, go on, Frodo my lad. Open it,” Bilbo nudged. He had waited months for this moment to arrive and he couldn’t wait to see the look on the young hobbit’s face.

Without further delay, Frodo untied the multi-colored ribbons and began to carefully run his little fingers under the seams of the fancy, gilded paper, loosening the glue holding the edges together. Out of the corner of his eye he observed his fidgeting, overeager uncle and deliberately began to take his time, stretching the momentous anticipation out for as long as he could, making a game of it. After all, Frodo reasoned, if Bilbo could make him wait to open such a special gift, then it was only fair that he make his uncle wait in turn!

After he heard Bilbo let out a heavy sigh and saw him open his mouth to speak in frustration, Frodo tore open the rest of the wrapping paper with relish and a delighted grin on his face. Uncle Bilbo had always enjoyed a good teasing of him and Frodo had as much fun teasing him back in return.

Bilbo memorized every nuance of the moment as he watched the emotion openly displayed on the youngster’s face go from delighted mischief to surprise and astonishment ... to bafflement ... to guarded disbelief and incomprehension ... to finally unbridled love. The big blue eyes filled with tears and the little rosebud mouth fell open moving silently, too choked with emotion to form proper words.

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