One sunny afternoon, Cubis decided it was time to become a chef. Dad had been working in the yard since morning, and Cubis watched him wipe sweat from his forehead. That was when Cubis had a brilliant idea. He puffed out his chest, clapped his hands once, and announced—at least in his own way—that he would cook something special for Dad.
Cubis hurried into the kitchen, dragging a basket of sweet potatoes nearly as big as himself. He carefully washed each one, splashing water everywhere and giggling at the mess. With great seriousness, he lined the sweet potatoes on the counter, inspecting them like a professional. This wasn’t just cooking—it was a mission of love.
Dad peeked in and smiled, pretending not to notice. Cubis put on an oversized apron that slid down to his knees, then began his “chef work.” He tapped each sweet potato, sniffed them, and nodded as if approving their quality. When it was time to cook, Dad helped light the stove, while Cubis watched closely, eyes wide with excitement.
As the sweet potatoes roasted, a warm, comforting smell filled the house. Cubis sat beside the oven, fanning the air and impatiently checking every few minutes. He bounced on his toes, imagining Dad’s happy face. When the timer finally rang, Cubis jumped with joy and clapped loudly.
With Dad’s help, Cubis carefully placed the cooked sweet potatoes on a plate. He proudly carried it to the table, nearly dropping it but saving the moment at the last second. His face glowed with pride. Dad took a bite and exaggerated his reaction, eyes wide, giving a big thumbs-up.
Cubis beamed, spinning in circles and laughing. He peeled one sweet potato and tried a bite himself, smearing orange on his nose. Dad laughed and pulled him into a warm hug, thanking his little chef again and again.
That simple plate of sweet potatoes tasted sweeter than any fancy meal. It was cooked with effort, joy, and the biggest ingredient of all—Cubis’s love. 🍠💛
