Baby Alan was used to getting his way. Whenever he stretched out his tiny arms, his mother would scoop him up instantly, holding him close to her warm chest. But today was different. Today, his mother decided that he needed to sit on the ground for a while.
The moment she placed him down on the soft dirt, Alan’s eyes widened with disbelief. He blinked once, twice—then let out a loud, dramatic scream. His little body shook with frustration as he threw himself backward, kicking his legs wildly. His tiny hands clawed at the air, demanding to be picked up immediately.
But his mother didn’t budge. She sat a few feet away, calmly watching him. She knew this game all too well. Alan had a habit of throwing tantrums whenever he didn’t get what he wanted.
Seeing that his cries weren’t working, Alan escalated his performance. He rolled onto his side, curled his fingers into fists, and thrashed on the ground, making sure every monkey around could hear his suffering. His tiny chest heaved as he sobbed uncontrollably, peeking through his teary eyes to see if his mother was reacting.
Nothing.
Frustrated, Alan let out another piercing scream, shaking his head from side to side as if the world had betrayed him. The other baby monkeys stared at him, some amused, others confused. One older monkey snickered, whispering, “He always does this!”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Alan, his mother sighed and reached out. The moment she lifted him into her arms, he immediately stopped crying, snuggling against her fur as if nothing had happened.
