Morning at CUTIS’s house never began quietly. Even before the sun stretched its golden arms across the village, laughter—or chaos—was already loading. And at the center of it all was CUTIS, the self-appointed “chief of mischief,” whose favorite hobby, besides working hard, was trolling Dad in the most harmless but hilarious ways possible.
Dad often said, “This boy was born smiling.” CUTIS took that as a personal challenge to make sure everyone else smiled too—especially Dad.
On this particular morning, CUTIS woke up earlier than usual, eyes sparkling with ideas. He sat up slowly, careful not to make a sound, then glanced at Dad, who was still asleep, snoring softly like a tired old tractor. CUTIS covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing. An idea had already landed.
He tiptoed outside, grabbed an old rooster-feather broom, and quietly returned. With the seriousness of a spy on a secret mission, he gently tickled Dad’s nose.
“Ah—chooo!”
Dad sneezed so loudly that even the chickens outside flapped in panic.
CUTIS jumped back dramatically. “EARTHQUAKE! Dad, are you okay?!”
Dad opened one eye, then the other, confused and half-awake. “What… what happened?”
CUTIS pointed at the ceiling. “Your snore scared the roof!”
Dad stared at him for three seconds, then groaned. “CUTIS…”
Mission accomplished. 😆
After breakfast, Dad sat on the wooden bench repairing a fishing net, his glasses sliding down his nose. CUTIS watched quietly, pretending to sweep the yard. But his mind was busy. Too busy.
He suddenly shouted, “DAD! DON’T MOVE!”
Dad froze. “Why?!”
“There’s a giant spider on your shoulder!”
Dad jumped up like a teenager, shaking wildly. “WHERE?! WHERE?!”
CUTIS burst out laughing, nearly dropping the broom. “April Fools—oh wait, it’s not April!”
Dad took off his sandal and raised it slowly. “One day,” he said calmly, “this sandal will meet your head.”
CUTIS saluted. “Worth it.”
Later, CUTIS decided to help Dad cook lunch. Or at least… pretend to help.
“Dad,” CUTIS said innocently, “today I’ll cook. You relax.”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “That sentence scares me.”
CUTIS ignored him and went straight to the kitchen. He added rice to the pot, vegetables to the pan, and—very secretly—shaped the rice into a heart and placed a single chili right in the center of Dad’s bowl.
They sat down to eat.
Dad took one bite.
Then another.
Then suddenly—his eyes widened.
“WATER!” Dad shouted.
CUTIS slid a cup across the table like a bartender. “Spicy love, Dad.”
Dad coughed, laughed, and wiped his forehead. “You’re trying to kill me with affection.”
CUTIS grinned. “Slowly.”
In the afternoon, Dad decided to nap. Big mistake.
CUTIS quietly recorded Dad’s loud snoring on his phone, then waited. Ten minutes later, he played it back at full volume near the window.
Dad woke up instantly. “WHO IS SNORING?!”
CUTIS looked around seriously. “Dad… I think it’s you from another dimension.”
Dad stared at him, then shook his head. “I worked my whole life for this.”
CUTIS laughed so hard he had to sit down.
As the sun leaned lower, Dad went to feed the cows. CUTIS followed behind, holding a banana. He slowly placed it inside Dad’s pocket while Dad wasn’t looking.
A few minutes later, Dad felt something soft.
He jumped. “WHAT IS THIS?!”
He pulled out the banana.
CUTIS collapsed in laughter. “Emergency snack!”
Dad sighed. “One day, I will troll you back.”
CUTIS froze. “Wait—WHAT?”
Dad smiled mysteriously. That smile made CUTIS nervous.
In the evening, CUTIS was still teasing—imitating Dad’s walk, copying his cough, pretending to be an “old man” asking for help to sit down.
Dad watched quietly, saying nothing.
Too quiet.
At dinner, Dad suddenly spoke. “CUTIS, can you bring me the salt?”
CUTIS nodded and stood up.
The moment he touched the bowl—
SPLASH.
Water poured down from above, soaking CUTIS from head to toe.
Dad burst out laughing, slapping the table. “REVENGE!”
CUTIS stood there, dripping, shocked… then slowly smiled.
“Okay,” he said. “Respect.”
They both laughed until their stomachs hurt.
That night, CUTIS helped Dad prepare for bed. He brought warm water, folded the blanket, and gently reminded Dad to take his medicine. The jokes softened, turning into quiet care.
Dad looked at him and said softly, “You joke a lot… but you take care of me more than anyone.”
CUTIS shrugged, suddenly shy. “If I don’t troll you, who will?”
Dad smiled. “That’s true.”
As the lamp dimmed, CUTIS whispered, “Good night, Dad. Tomorrow… I have new ideas.”
Dad groaned, but he was smiling. “I know. And I’m not ready.”
CUTIS laughed quietly and lay down.
Because in this house, laughter wasn’t just fun—it was love. ❤️😄
