Tiny Linda was usually a sweet baby monkey, playful and curious, but today everything was different. The moment mom brought the clean diaper toward her, Linda’s face tightened with frustration. She threw her tiny arms up, kicking her feet, yelling with all her little strength as if the world had betrayed her. To her, wearing a diaper meant stopping playtime, stopping freedom, and she simply wasn’t ready for that.
Mom remained calm, gently holding Linda’s tiny legs while speaking softly, trying to explain even though Linda couldn’t understand the words. The tone mattered — warm, patient, full of love. But Linda didn’t care. She wanted no diaper, no rules, only her own way. Her voice echoed through the room, sharp and emotional, demanding escape. She twisted her body like a slippery fish, trying to wiggle away from mom’s hands, even attempting a small bite to show her anger.
Mom sighed, not angry, just tired. She paused, pulled Linda close for a moment, rubbed her head with soft fingers. Linda’s cries slowed for a second, comforted by familiar warmth — but when she saw the diaper again, her dramatic scream returned louder than before.
It was funny and heartbreaking at the same time — such a tiny baby with such a giant temper. Mom tried a trick, offering her favorite toy beside her. Linda looked at it, still sniffing, unsure. Then mom gently wrapped the diaper while Linda was distracted. In a moment, it was done.
Linda stared, confused that she lost the battle. She grumbled softly, but finally relaxed, snuggling close to mom’s chest as if nothing ever happened. Her anger faded like a passing storm, replaced by comfort, warmth, and tiny breaths of peace.
Even when she screams, Linda is loved — and diapers are just part of growing up.
