Tourtour was having the time of his life. The muddy puddle in the yard called to him like an irresistible adventure. With a gleeful squeal, he jumped in, splashing water everywhere. His tiny feet stomped around, and soon, he was covered in thick, wet mud from head to toe. He giggled, enjoying the cool, squishy feeling between his fingers.
But then—“Tourtour!!”
His mom’s sharp voice rang through the air.
Tourtour froze. His ears twitched. Uh-oh. He turned slowly and saw his mom standing at the edge of the yard, hands on her hips, eyes glaring.
“What did I tell you about playing in the mud?!” she scolded, marching toward him.
Tourtour gulped. He knew he was in trouble. His tail curled up behind him as he tried to flash his most innocent smile. “Uh… I was just… exploring?” he mumbled.
Mom didn’t buy it. She pointed at his dripping body. “Look at you! You’re filthy! And now I have to clean you up before you get inside the house.”
Tourtour pouted. “But it was fun…”
Mom sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Come on, mister. Bath time for you!”
Tourtour whined loudly, shaking his head. He didn’t like baths! But before he could run, his mom scooped him up, holding him at arm’s length to avoid getting dirty herself.
“Noooo!” Tourtour cried, kicking his legs.
Mom chuckled. “You should’ve thought of that before playing in the mud.”
And just like that, Tourtour’s fun afternoon ended in a splashy bath he did not want!
