After finishing his milk, A Tong melted into the mattress like a tiny bundle of jelly. His once-busy hands fell to his sides, fingers loose, bottle forgotten. Just moments ago, he had cried and squirmed with impatience. Now, the storm inside him was completely gone.
His belly was full, round and warm, rising gently with each slow breath. A Tong blinked heavily, eyes half closed, lashes fluttering as sleep crept in. He tried to lift his head, failed, and gave up without protest. Laziness wrapped around him like a soft blanket.
He stretched one leg, then the other, not to move, but simply because it felt good. His arms flopped dramatically above his head. Even his favorite habit of grabbing nearby things felt like too much effort now. Milk had stolen all his energy.
Mom watched quietly, smiling at the transformation. The loud, demanding baby had turned into the laziest little monkey in the room. She adjusted the mattress, smoothing the fabric beneath him. A Tong responded with a tiny sigh, eyes closing for a second, then opening again as if to say, Don’t leave yet.
He rolled slightly onto his side, cheek pressed into the mattress, mouth relaxed. A drop of milk still clung to his lip. His breathing slowed, deep and steady. Every muscle surrendered to comfort.
The world felt perfect in that moment. No hunger. No waiting. No tears. Just warmth and rest.
Mom placed a gentle hand on his back. A Tong didn’t react, except for a small wiggle, settling deeper into the mattress. Sleep finally won. His eyes closed fully, his body completely still.
After milk, A Tong wasn’t naughty, loud, or needy. He was simply full and happy. And in his lazy stillness, he showed the sweetest truth of all. Sometimes, the greatest joy for a baby is doing absolutely nothing at all.
