Jack sat in the middle of the yard with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, lips pushed forward in a dramatic pout. The tiny monkey had already decided the day was unfair. Mom was busy cleaning nearby, but Jack had a very important request—he wanted to ride the bike, and not just for fun. In his mind, riding the bike was essential care.
He glanced at the bike leaning against the tree, eyes sparkling with mischief. Slowly, he stood up, waddled toward it, then suddenly threw himself onto the ground like a fallen hero. A loud, exaggerated cry burst out, echoing across the yard. Jack rolled slightly, checking if mom was watching. She was. Good.
Jack pointed at the bike, then at himself, then pretended to look weak and helpless. His cries turned into funny squeaks, mixed with impatient stomps. He wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t hungry. He was simply spoiled—and proud of it.
Mom tried to ignore him, but Jack increased the drama. He crawled closer, clung to her leg, and tilted his head back as if saying, “How can you neglect me like this?” His tail flicked with attitude. The performance deserved an award.
Finally, mom sighed and lifted him up. Instantly, Jack’s tears vanished. His face lit up with pure victory. He hugged her neck tightly, making soft happy sounds, already forgetting the tragedy from seconds ago.
When mom placed him on the bike, Jack sat tall and confident, gripping the handle like a king on his throne. The bike rolled slowly, and Jack squealed with joy, laughing loudly. His spoiled plan had worked perfectly.
Neighbors watching couldn’t help but laugh. Jack looked back proudly, as if to say, “See? This is how you take care of me.” The ride continued, and Jack soaked up every second, knowing deep in his heart that being spoiled wasn’t a problem—it was a talent.
For Jack, love meant attention, laughter, and yes… a bike ride whenever he demanded it.
