Everyone in the house knew one important rule: never touch Mom’s stuff without permission. Everyone knew it… except CUTIS. Or maybe CUTIS knew it very well—but curiosity, as always, was stronger.
That morning, Mom had gone to the market, leaving the house unusually quiet. CUTIS sat on the floor, playing with his toy car, when his eyes slowly drifted toward Mom’s room. The door was slightly open, just enough to invite trouble.
CUTIS stood up and whispered to himself, “I will only look.”
Looking, unfortunately, was never where it ended.
Inside the room, everything felt special. Mom’s perfume sat proudly on the table, shining like a magic bottle. Her makeup box was neatly closed, full of mysterious colors CUTIS had always wondered about. And hanging on the chair was Mom’s favorite dress—the one she only wore on important days.
CUTIS approached the table carefully, like an explorer discovering treasure.
“What if I smell just one time?” he said.
He lifted the perfume bottle, sniffed deeply… and sneezed.
ACHOO!
The bottle slipped.
Luckily, it didn’t break—but half the perfume splashed onto CUTIS’s shirt, the bed, and the air itself. The room instantly smelled like Mom had exploded into a flower.
CUTIS blinked. “Wow,” he said. “I smell rich.”
Encouraged by his success, CUTIS opened the makeup box. Inside were powders, brushes, lipsticks, and colors he didn’t even have names for.
“These are paints,” CUTIS decided.
He dipped his finger into a pink blush and drew a line on his cheek. Then another. Then both cheeks. He found lipstick next and carefully painted his lips—then his nose—then one eyebrow for artistic balance.
When he finally looked into the mirror, he gasped.
“I look like birthday cake.”
Satisfied, CUTIS moved on to the dress. It looked soft. Elegant. Perfect for spinning.
He tried to put it on. It went over his head, got stuck, then somehow wrapped around him like a confused curtain.
CUTIS spun anyway.
That was when the baby monkey appeared at the window.
The monkey stared.
CUTIS stared back.
For one long second, neither moved.
Then the baby monkey burst into excited chik-chik sounds and jumped inside. He ran circles around CUTIS, clapping and laughing.
“You like my fashion?” CUTIS asked proudly.
The monkey jumped onto the bed, grabbed a makeup brush, and dipped it straight into powder. He copied CUTIS perfectly—painting his own face, then painting the pillow, then accidentally painting the wall.
“Oh no,” CUTIS whispered. “Now wall is beautiful too.”
Just as the monkey knocked over the makeup box and glitter scattered like fairy dust across the floor, CUTIS heard footsteps.
Mom was home.
CUTIS froze. The monkey froze. Even the glitter seemed to stop sparkling.
“CUTIS?” Mom called. “Why does the house smell like my perfume factory?”
CUTIS panicked. He looked around for solutions. There were none.
Mom opened the door.
She stopped.
Her eyes scanned the room: the spilled perfume, the glitter-covered floor, the makeup disaster, the monkey holding a lipstick like a microphone—and CUTIS standing in the middle, wearing her dress and smiling nervously.
“Mom,” CUTIS said softly, “surprise?”
There was silence.
Then Mom laughed.
She laughed so hard she had to sit on the chair. “CUTIS!” she said between breaths. “What happened to you?”
CUTIS relaxed immediately. “I only looked,” he explained. “Then stuff happened.”
The baby monkey climbed onto Mom’s shoulder and proudly presented the lipstick.
Mom wiped tears from her eyes. “So this was teamwork?”
CUTIS nodded seriously. “Yes. Monkey is artist.”
Mom sighed, still smiling. “Alright, artist and helper. Clean up time.”
CUTIS and the baby monkey worked together. CUTIS wiped the table. The monkey pushed tissues around and occasionally tried to eat them. CUTIS gently stopped him.
“No. That is not banana.”
After everything was cleaned, Mom knelt in front of CUTIS. “Next time,” she said gently, “ask before touching my things.”
CUTIS nodded. “Yes, Mom. But… can I wear dress again someday?”
Mom smiled. “Maybe. For fun.”
CUTIS hugged her tightly. The baby monkey joined the hug, wrapping his tiny arms around both of them.
Later that evening, Dad came home and sniffed the air. “Why does CUTIS smell like your perfume?”
Mom laughed. “Long story.”
CUTIS struck a pose. “Fashion show.”
Dad looked at the monkey, who still had pink powder on his face. “I see.”
That night, CUTIS went to bed tired but happy. He learned an important lesson: Mom’s stuff was special, curiosity could cause trouble, and laughter made everything better.
And somewhere nearby, a baby monkey slept peacefully—dreaming of glitter, lipstick, and the funniest fashion show he had ever seen.
Your 1000-word funny story is ready and added to the canvas 😂
If you want next, I can:
- make it even more chaotic & funny 😆
- add Dad coming home and reacting
- write Part 2: Mom pranks CUTIS back 😜
- turn it into a YouTube viral narration script
Just tell me what you want — I’ll do it for you 👍
