It was a warm afternoon, and tiny baby monkey Mato was playing on the mat in the corner of the yard. His older sister, Janna, sat nearby, grooming her soft fur while keeping an eye on him. Mato, always craving attention, toddled over to her, reaching his tiny hands out for a cuddle.
“Eeeh! Eeeh!” Mato squeaked, tugging at Janna’s arm. His big, pleading eyes made it clear—he wanted to snuggle under her chest, the way he always loved to.
But Janna, feeling a little independent today, gently nudged him away. “Not now, Mato,” her expression seemed to say as she resumed grooming herself.
Mato froze for a moment, disbelief flashing across his tiny face. Then, his lip quivered, and a storm of emotions erupted. He threw himself onto the ground, wailing at the top of his lungs.
“Eeeeeeeeeek! Eeeeeh!” he screamed, kicking his legs and rolling dramatically. His tiny body convulsed with sobs as tears streamed down his cheeks.
Janna glanced over, her calm demeanor unwavering. She gave a soft sigh, as if to say, “Oh, here we go again.”
Mato, however, was far from done. He pounded his little fists on the ground, twisting and turning in frustration. His cries grew louder, echoing through the yard.
Hearing the commotion, their mom appeared, her arms folded. She looked down at Mato, a mix of amusement and exasperation in her eyes. “Mato, stop being so dramatic,” she said gently, picking him up.
But Mato, still angry at Janna, squirmed in her arms, turning his head toward his sister with a pitiful whimper. Janna finally gave in, walking over to give him a light pat on the head.
That small gesture was enough. Mato sniffled, his tantrum easing as he nestled into his mom’s embrace.
