Tourtour, the little monkey with a fiery personality, had always been the center of his mom’s world. But today, something was different. Mom was busy folding laundry and hadn’t noticed Tourtour tugging at her arm.
He tried tapping her leg. “Eek! Eek!” he squeaked, but Mom gently patted his head and said, “Wait a minute, Tourtour.”
That wasn’t the response he wanted. Tourtour crossed his little arms and stomped his tiny feet. Feeling ignored, he let out a dramatic cry and rolled onto the floor. His high-pitched squeals echoed through the room.
Mom glanced over, trying not to laugh. “Tourtour, what are you doing down there?” she asked.
But Tourtour wasn’t done. He wiggled around, throwing his arms in the air, and let out another exaggerated cry. He looked at Mom with big, tear-filled eyes, hoping she would finally give in and pick him up.
Mom sighed, set the laundry aside, and walked over. “Okay, little one,” she said, crouching down. “What’s all this fuss about?”
The moment she reached out, Tourtour stopped crying and raised his arms expectantly. Mom scooped him up, and he wrapped his tiny arms around her neck, clinging tightly as if to say, “Finally!”
“Was that all you wanted, huh?” she teased, gently rocking him. Tourtour let out a satisfied squeak and snuggled into her shoulder.
Mom chuckled softly. “You sure know how to make a scene, my little drama king.”
From then on, whenever Tourtour wanted attention, he would flash his most innocent look first—only rolling on the floor if Mom really took too long.
