The last time I pulled a really good prank, I was four years old.

It happened on a winter morning in 1993. I’d gotten up before anyone else in my family — maybe 5:30 or 6 (actually I bet my dad was on his second nap of the day; brutha wakes up around midnight.) Since everyone was still asleep and I was no more than a helpless child, I did what most early-rising babies do: I crawled under the kitchen table and chilled. I don’t know if I was pretending to be a pet or just thought the floor beneath the kitchen table would be comfortable. Either way, I scooted beneath the wooden benches and posted up on the floor like a boss.

I was only there — silently sitting under a table in a dark kitchen at 6 in the morning — for a little while before my mom woke up. She came downstairs, flipped on the kitchen light, and started brewing a cup of instant coffee. I stayed hid.

A little while after that, my oldest sister, Chris, woke up and started getting ready for school. She came into the kitchen to chat with my mom and stood right by the edge of the table. Still, I didn’t move.

Then, as if I’d been planning it all along, I reached out my tiny little paw and scratched her foot. She jumped back, screamed, and looked down at the floor, but I was too quick for her — I’d already pulled my hand back under the table. Confused and a little scared, she blamed it on one of the cats.

After a few moments passed I did it again. I scratched the funky out of her foot. Now sure it definitely wasn’t a cat, but also not knowing it was her 4-year-old sister, she was more confused and scared than ever. She looked under the table and saw me, laughing and flipping her some birds, probably.

I never felt cooler.

(On the other hand, I pulled my worst prank on April Fool’s day in first grade. I brought my teacher Oreo cookies with wax paper in them, but since my dad didn’t want her to choke, he made sure the wax paper stuck out over the edges of the cookie. When I gave them to her, she looked at me and said, “Next time make sure you hide the wax paper better, idiot.”

I haven’t felt cool since.)