It was a quiet afternoon, and Mommy was busy cleaning up the living room. Little Mato, the smallest and most spoiled of her baby monkeys, clung tightly to her side, refusing to be left alone.
“Mato, I need to tidy up,” Mommy said gently, lifting him onto the small wooden table nearby. “Stay here for just a minute, okay?”
But Mato was not okay. The moment his tiny feet touched the table, his face twisted into an expression of pure indignation. He let out a sharp squeak, his little hands reaching out toward Mommy, demanding to be picked up again.
Mommy ignored his protests and turned her attention back to her chores. Mato, feeling utterly betrayed, stomped his tiny feet on the table. His cries grew louder and more dramatic with each passing second, echoing through the room.
“Eeeek! Eeeek!” he screeched, shaking his head furiously. His tiny fists pounded on the table as he glared at Mommy, his big eyes shimmering with tears.
“Oh, Mato,” Mommy sighed, turning back to him. “You’re such a little troublemaker.”
Mato, however, was not in the mood to be teased. He flopped onto his back, flailing his arms and legs in a full-blown tantrum. His cries softened only when Mommy came closer, her hands on her hips.
“Fine, you win,” she said, picking him up with a playful smile. “But you have to let me finish my work, okay?”
Mato immediately snuggled into her arms, his earlier temper forgotten. He nuzzled against her shoulder, letting out a soft hum of contentment.
Mommy kissed his forehead and laughed. “You’re so dramatic, Mato. What would I do without you?”
