Ronaldo sat in the middle of the floor, back straight but body shaking, mouth wide open as he screamed with all his strength. Hunger burned inside his tiny stomach, turning discomfort into panic. His voice echoed sharply, louder with every breath, as if calling the milk into existence. To him, waiting was unbearable, and silence felt dangerous.
His hands waved frantically, fingers opening and closing like he was grabbing for help. He looked toward the door again and again, eyes glossy with tears, screaming louder each time no one came instantly. His legs kicked the floor, frustration pouring out without control. Ronaldo wasn’t angry for no reason. He was hungry, and hunger felt like an emergency.
Dad tried to soothe him, crouching close and speaking gently. Ronaldo barely listened. He screamed over the calm words, shaking his head, refusing distraction. Toys meant nothing. Comfort without milk meant nothing. His cries cracked into sobs, then rose again into sharp, demanding screams. His chest heaved, breath fast and uneven, fear mixing with hunger until both felt the same.
Then the familiar sound came. A bottle being prepared. Ronaldo froze for a second, eyes wide, scream catching in his throat. He leaned forward, voice breaking into desperate cries, begging faster now. When mom finally appeared, his control vanished. He cried harder, arms stretching toward her, body trembling with relief and urgency.
Mom lifted him immediately, holding him close against her chest. His screams softened into sobs as the bottle touched his lips. He latched on greedily, drinking fast, eyes half closed. With every swallow, the panic drained away. His body relaxed, legs no longer kicking, hands resting weakly against mom’s arm.
Milk filled his belly, but being held filled his heart. The screaming stopped completely. Only small gulps and quiet sighs remained. Ronaldo leaned into mom, exhausted from the storm he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t spoiled. He was small, hungry, and learning how to survive feelings bigger than himself.
When he finished, he rested quietly, finally safe. Hunger had passed, but love stayed.
