The soft morning breeze rustled through the trees, but in the middle of a quiet yard, loud, desperate cries shattered the peaceful moment. Inside a small, woven vine basket lay a tiny baby monkey, his eyes shut tightly as he screamed with all his might. His tiny hands gripped the edges of the basket as his little body trembled with hunger.
His name was Coco, and right now, there was only one thing on his mind—milk. His stomach ached with emptiness, and his high-pitched wails grew louder, demanding attention. His little face scrunched up, tears streaming down his cheeks as he kicked his fragile legs.
Hearing the heartbreaking cries, Mommy rushed over. “Oh my dear Coco, what’s wrong?” she cooed, but she already knew the answer.
Coco’s teary eyes blinked up at her, his tiny lips quivering. He opened his mouth again and let out another desperate scream, as if saying, “Milk, Mommy! I need milk right now!”
Mommy quickly picked up a warm milk bottle and gently lifted Coco from the basket. The moment the bottle’s nipple touched his lips, Coco latched onto it eagerly, sucking furiously. His tiny fingers grasped at Mommy’s hand, as if making sure she wouldn’t take it away.
With each gulp, his cries softened, replaced by tiny, satisfied noises. His tense little body relaxed in Mommy’s arms, and within minutes, the hunger tantrum was over. His eyes, still damp from crying, fluttered sleepily as he nursed, feeling safe and loved.
Mommy sighed in relief, rocking him gently. “You’re such a dramatic little one,” she whispered with a soft laugh.
Coco didn’t hear her. He was already drifting into a peaceful sleep, his tiny tummy finally full.
