The morning sun had barely peeked through the curtains when Cubis climbed onto Dad’s bed with a very serious face. Hands on his hips and eyebrows slightly furrowed, he cleared his throat like a tiny manager about to give instructions. “Dad,” he announced, “today I want a fancy breakfast. At home.” Dad opened one eye and burst out laughing. “A fancy breakfast? And what does the boss want?” he asked.
Cubis pulled out an imaginary notebook and began listing his demands. “First, eggs. Not boring eggs—special eggs,” he said proudly. “Then toast cut like triangles, not squares. And juice in the big cup.” Dad nodded dramatically, pretending to take notes. “Yes, Mr. Cubis. Anything else?” Cubis thought hard, then added, “Fruit on the side. Make it colorful!”
In the kitchen, Cubis supervised closely, standing on a small stool like a true boss. Every move Dad made was carefully inspected. “No, no,” Cubis giggled, “the eggs need more flipping.” Dad exaggerated his cooking, flipping the eggs high in the air, making Cubis laugh so hard he almost fell off the stool. The smell of butter and toast soon filled the house, turning the ordinary morning into something special.
When the breakfast was finally ready, Dad carried the plate to the table as if serving a royal guest. On it were golden scrambled eggs, neatly cut triangle toast, bright fruit slices, and a tall glass of juice. Cubis gasped in delight. “Wow! This looks like a restaurant!” he said, clapping his hands.
Cubis tasted the eggs carefully, nodding with approval. “Good job, Dad,” he declared. “You can work here again tomorrow.” Dad bowed playfully. “Thank you, Boss.” They both laughed, crumbs scattered on the table and juice mustaches forming on Cubis’s lips.
As they ate together, Dad realized that the fancy breakfast wasn’t about food at all. It was about laughter, imagination, and spending a joyful morning together. And Cubis? He leaned back in his chair, full and happy, already planning his next big order for tomorrow’s breakfast meeting.
