Minea was impatient.
Dad was taking too long to prepare her milk formula, and she was not happy about it.
She stomped her tiny feet, her little hands grabbing Dad’s arm as he tried to mix the milk.
“Minea, STOP IT!” Dad scolded, trying to focus.
But Minea didn’t care. She whined loudly, then yanked at his sleeve, trying to steal the bottle before he was done.
“I said WAIT!” Dad’s voice grew firm.
Minea froze for a second, but then—BAM! She slapped his hand.
Dad gasped. “Did you just HIT ME?!”
Minea pouted and crossed her arms, staring at him with attitude.
That was it—Dad had enough.
“Minea, listen to me! You need to learn some patience! You can’t act nasty just because you’re hungry!”
Minea huffed. She didn’t like being scolded.
Dad shook his head. “I always take care of you, don’t I? But you must be a good girl and wait for your food!”
Minea rolled her eyes, but deep down, she knew he was right.
Finally, Dad handed her the warm milk bottle.
She snatched it and sipped quickly, still looking annoyed but secretly relieved.
Dad chuckled. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Minea didn’t answer. She was too busy drinking.
