Fresh from her bath, Selena sat wrapped in a towel, fur still damp, body warm but patience completely gone. Water dripped softly onto the floor, but her mood was anything but calm. She expected food, comfort, and arms right away. Instead, Mom moved around the room, preparing things slowly, carefully, not fast enough for Selena’s needs.
Selena’s face tightened. Her eyes flashed. Then came the scream.
It was loud, sharp, and full of outrage. She kicked her tiny feet, tugged at the towel, and threw her head back, crying as if the world had wronged her deeply. To Mom, it was just a few minutes of preparation. To Selena, it felt like forever. Cold air touched her skin. Hunger stirred. The delay felt unbearable.
Mom tried to soothe her with gentle words, explaining she needed to finish first. Selena didn’t listen. Her screams grew louder, echoing through the room. She wanted now, not later. Her anger wasn’t naughty; it was raw discomfort mixed with expectation.
She cried until her voice cracked, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her small hands reached out, then pulled back, frustrated and confused. Why wasn’t Mom holding her yet? Why wasn’t everything ready already?
Mom finally stopped moving and turned fully toward her. She lifted Selena close, wrapping her tighter, pressing her against a warm chest. The screaming didn’t stop immediately, but it changed. Anger softened into sobs. Breath slowed. The world felt safer again.
As Mom finished preparing with Selena in her arms, the difference was clear. Selena needed presence more than speed. When food finally came, she quieted, exhausted from emotion, clinging tightly.
After eating, Selena rested, eyes heavy, anger gone. The bath was forgotten. The screams faded into sleep.
That moment taught them both something gentle and true. Babies don’t scream because they want control. They scream because they need reassurance. And sometimes, holding first matters more than finishing preparation.
