Early 2025 began like any other time in the forest—fresh air, bright mornings, and the familiar rhythm of life echoing through the trees. But for Mom, one thing was already certain: with CUTIS around, “normal” never lasted long. If the forest had a calendar of chaos, CUTIS was definitely responsible for the funniest incident written right at the start of the year.
It all began on a cool morning when the sun had just climbed over the treetops. Mom was peacefully grooming herself near the shelter, enjoying one of those rare moments of calm. CUTIS, unusually quiet, sat nearby nibbling on a piece of fruit. That silence alone should have been a warning. CUTIS being quiet was like the forest going silent before a storm.
Mom glanced at him suspiciously.
CUTIS smiled.
That smile—wide, innocent, and dangerous.
Without any warning, CUTIS suddenly jumped up and ran toward the river shouting excited sounds, arms waving like he had just discovered the greatest secret of 2025. Mom panicked and rushed after him, thinking something serious had happened. Had he seen a predator? Was there danger?
No.
What she found instead was CUTIS standing proudly on a rock, pointing dramatically at… his own reflection in the water.
Mom froze.
CUTIS leaned closer to the water, made a silly face, then jumped back as if the “other monkey” had surprised him. He screamed, slipped, fell straight into the shallow river, and popped back up looking absolutely shocked.
Mom gasped.
CUTIS burst into laughter.
Water splashed everywhere as he started arguing with his reflection, scolding it, then bowing politely like it was a guest. He even tried to hand it a piece of fruit—which immediately floated away.
Mom covered her face.
This is how 2025 starts? she thought.
But that was only the beginning.
Later that day, CUTIS discovered something new: dry leaves make very loud noises. Very loud noises are very funny. Especially when Mom is resting.
CUTIS waited until Mom closed her eyes. Then he slowly climbed into a pile of dry leaves behind her. One step.
CRUNCH.
Mom opened one eye.
CUTIS froze.
He waited.
Mom closed her eye again.
CUTIS jumped.
CRASH! CRUNCH! LEAVES EVERYWHERE!
Mom leapt up in shock 😱, heart racing, ready to defend. CUTIS stood proudly in the middle of the mess, arms raised like a performer finishing a show.
Ta-da!
Mom stared at him.
CUTIS bowed.
She chased him.
The forest echoed with CUTIS’s laughter as he ran in circles, slipping, tripping, and almost crashing into a tree—before stopping dramatically and pretending to faint from exhaustion. Mom stood over him, hands on hips, trying very hard not to laugh.
She failed.
The next incident happened when CUTIS decided he was now… a chef.
Early 2025 apparently inspired CUTIS to “cook.”
He gathered random items: half-ripe fruit, leaves, a flower, a small stick, and—unfortunately—a very smelly root. He mashed everything together on a flat stone, stirring with great seriousness. Mom watched from a distance, confused and concerned.
CUTIS carefully shaped the mixture into a lumpy ball and proudly carried it to Mom.
He offered it with both hands.
Mom sniffed.
Her face changed instantly.
CUTIS nodded eagerly, encouraging her to taste it.
Mom shook her head firmly.
CUTIS shrugged and took a bite himself.
Instant regret.
His face twisted. His tongue stuck out. He gagged dramatically, rolled on the ground, and acted as if he had been poisoned. Mom rushed forward in panic—until CUTIS suddenly peeked through one eye and started laughing again.
Mom lightly smacked his arm.
CUTIS laughed harder.
But the funniest incident—the one that made early 2025 unforgettable—happened a few days later.
CUTIS found something extraordinary.
A shiny metal lid, probably dropped long ago by humans, lay hidden under leaves near the edge of the forest. CUTIS stared at it like it was a treasure from another world. He picked it up, turned it around, and gasped.
It reflected his face.
CUTIS screamed.
He dropped it.
Then slowly picked it up again.
He made an angry face.
The reflection copied him.
CUTIS growled.
The reflection growled back.
CUTIS was officially offended.
He ran to Mom, holding the lid like proof of betrayal, pointing at it angrily. Mom looked, understood instantly, and sighed deeply. She knew what was coming.
CUTIS marched back to the clearing and placed the lid on the ground. He stood tall, puffed out his chest, and challenged his “enemy.”
He jumped.
The lid didn’t.
CUTIS slapped it.
CLANG!
The loud sound echoed through the forest.
CUTIS screamed and jumped backward, slipping and landing on his back. Mom nearly had a heart attack.
CUTIS lay still.
Too still.
Mom rushed over, panic rising.
Suddenly—CUTIS sat up and clapped.
He did it again.
CLANG!
CUTIS’s eyes lit up.
New game unlocked.
For the next hour, CUTIS created the loudest concert the forest had ever heard. He banged the lid with sticks, stones, his hands, and once—his foot. Birds flew away. Other animals stared in shock. Mom tried to stop him, but CUTIS danced around her, turning the chaos into music only he understood.
At one point, he climbed onto a rock, held the lid above his head like a trophy, and struck a dramatic pose.
Mom could only laugh.
By sunset, CUTIS was exhausted. He lay beside Mom, breathing heavily, fur messy, face glowing with happiness. The shiny lid lay nearby, scratched and dented, but clearly beloved.
Mom gently groomed his fur, shaking her head with a smile.
“So this is early 2025,” her heart thought. “Loud. Messy. Ridiculous.”
CUTIS looked up at her and made a soft, happy sound. He snuggled closer, already drifting to sleep. The forest slowly returned to calm, as if nothing had happened.
But Mom knew better.
Early 2025 had officially been marked by the funniest incident of all: CUTIS discovering the world with endless curiosity, zero fear, and unlimited chaos.
As the stars appeared above them, Mom smiled.
If this was how the year started…
She couldn’t wait—and was slightly terrified—to see what CUTIS would do next 🤩✨.
