After finishing his cooking adventure, Tommy washed his hands carefully, climbed down from the chair, and walked back into the living room as if making a pie, a cake, and a pizza was a perfectly ordinary part of the evening.
Lloyd followed him slowly, still trying to process what he had just witnessed.
“Did… did you really cook all that?” Lloyd asked.
Tommy shrugged. “Yes.”
“You’re three.”
“I know.”
“That’s not normal.”
Tommy didn’t respond. He simply climbed onto the couch and reached for a large book resting on the coffee table.
Lloyd stopped in the doorway.
The book was enormous. When Tommy lifted it, the cover almost hid his entire face.
Lloyd crossed his arms.
“That book is bigger than you,” he said.
Tommy peeked over the edge of the book.
“It’s not that big.”
Lloyd walked closer and squinted at the cover.
“How many pages does it even have?”
Tommy flipped it open. “Only eight hundred.”
“ONLY?” Lloyd repeated. “Eight hundred is not ‘only.’”
Tommy ignored him. He turned to the first page and began reading quietly.
Lloyd watched him for a few seconds.
“You’re not actually going to read that whole thing,” Lloyd said.
Tommy didn’t even look up. “I am.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd shook his head.
“Alright,” he muttered. “You do that.”
He walked back to the table and opened his math notebook again.
The same horrible questions stared back at him.
Lloyd sighed and picked up his pencil.
“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “You can do this.”
Behind him, Tommy quietly turned page after page.
Lloyd solved part of a problem.
Then erased it.
Then wrote something else.
“Why are there so many brackets?” Lloyd complained to nobody.
A page turned in the living room.
Another page turned.
Fifteen long minutes later, Lloyd finally solved one question.
Just one.
He stretched his arms.
“Yes!” he whispered. “Take that, math.”
Feeling proud of himself, Lloyd walked back into the living room.
Tommy was still on the couch.
But something looked strange.
Lloyd stepped closer.
Tommy was holding the final page of the book.
The last page.
Lloyd’s eyes widened.
“Wait,” he said slowly. “You started that book fifteen minutes ago.”
Tommy finished the last sentence, closed the book calmly, and placed it on the table.
“Yes,” he said.
“You… read eight hundred pages in fifteen minutes?”
Tommy nodded. “It was interesting.”
Lloyd stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s not impossible,” Tommy replied. “It just requires practice.”
“Practice?” Lloyd repeated. “What kind of practice makes someone read faster than a race car?”
Tommy slid off the couch and walked toward the table.
“What are you doing?” Lloyd asked.
Tommy looked at the math notebook.
“Oh,” he said. “Homework.”
“Yes,” Lloyd replied proudly. “Very difficult homework.”
Tommy looked at the page.
Then he frowned.
“These are wrong.”
Lloyd froze.
“Excuse me?”
“All of them,” Tommy said.
Lloyd leaned over the table.
“You’re three.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re telling me my math is wrong?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd folded his arms. “Alright then, Professor. Show me.”
Tommy picked up the pencil.
For the next ten minutes, Lloyd watched in complete silence as Tommy solved every single question.
Quickly.
Neatly.
Correctly.
When Tommy finished, he placed the pencil down.
“There,” he said.
Lloyd looked at the page.
Then he checked the answers.
Then he checked them again.
“They’re… right,” Lloyd whispered.
Tommy shrugged. “Of course.”
Lloyd stared at him.
There was absolutely no way a three-year-old knew how to cook full meals, read eight hundred pages in fifteen minutes, and solve middle-school math.
Meanwhile, Lloyd couldn’t even make toast without burning it.
Something wasn’t right.
Lloyd slowly stepped back.
He stared at the pie in the kitchen, the homework and the 800-page book.
His brain officially gave up understanding.
“I know what you are,” he said.
Tommy blinked. “What?”
“You’re not a kid.”
Tommy tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a robot,” Lloyd said seriously.
Tommy raised an eyebrow.
“A super genius robot.”
Tommy stared at him for a moment.
“…No.”
“Yes,” Lloyd said confidently. “It explains everything.”
Tommy sighed and walked away.
Lloyd nodded to himself.
“Robots and water don’t mix,” he whispered. “That’s science.”
So Lloyd went to the kitchen, grabbed a bucket, filled it with water, and marched back toward the living room.
The couch was facing away from him.
Tommy appeared to be sitting there.
“Sorry, robot,” Lloyd said.
“But science is science.”
And he threw the water.
Splash!
Water soaked the couch.
But nothing happened.
Tommy didn’t scream.
He didn’t move.
Lloyd frowned and walked closer.
Then he froze.
Sitting on the couch was a plush toy.
A stuffed bear.
Lloyd slowly lowered the bucket.
“…What?”
He looked around the room.
“Tommy?” he called.
No answer.
Lloyd checked the kitchen.
Nothing.
He checked the hallway.
Nothing.
“Tommy?” he called again, louder this time.
Still no answer.
Now Lloyd was starting to panic.
He searched the house for twenty minutes.
Finally, he opened the back door and stepped into the backyard.
And there was Tommy.
Kneeling in the garden.
Planting flowers.
Tommy looked up calmly.
“Oh,” he said. “You found me.”
Lloyd stared at him.
“You were missing!”
“I was gardening,” Tommy replied.
“You disappeared!”
“I walked outside.”
“You made me search the entire house!”
Tommy shrugged.
“You didn’t check the backyard.”
🌀 What Just Happened?
- Tommy casually read an 800-page book in fifteen minutes.
- He corrected and solved all of Lloyd’s math homework perfectly.
- Lloyd became convinced Tommy was a super genius robot.
- Lloyd threw water on a “robot”… but hit a teddy bear instead.
- Tommy was calmly outside gardening while Lloyd panicked inside.
Comments (0)