The early morning sun bathed the yard in golden light as Baby Alan, a tiny and energetic monkey, sat restlessly on the wooden table. His round eyes darted around, searching for his mother. His tiny hands tapped impatiently on the surface as his belly let out a small, growling protest. He was hungry—desperately hungry for his favorite warm milk.
Alan had waited as long as he could, but his patience was running out. His mother had stepped away for only a moment, but to him, it felt like an eternity. He pouted, his tiny lips quivering as frustration built inside him. Then, without warning, he let out a loud, dramatic cry, his voice echoing across the yard.
His little body trembled with anger. He rolled onto his back, kicking his feet wildly, his cries growing louder by the second. Anyone watching would think something terrible had happened. His small hands reached out as if begging for the milk that wasn’t there yet.
Hearing the commotion, his mother rushed back, holding a bottle of fresh, warm milk. But Alan, now fully in tantrum mode, refused to calm down. He turned his head away, still crying, as if punishing her for making him wait.
She gently stroked his soft fur and brought the bottle closer. The scent of warm milk reached his nose, and despite his anger, he couldn’t resist. Slowly, his sobs faded as he reached for the bottle with both hands, pulling it close to his lips.
Within seconds, the tantrum was over. Alan sucked hungrily, his tiny fingers gripping the bottle tightly. His mother smiled, shaking her head. “You’re such a little troublemaker,” she whispered.
Alan, now full and satisfied, blinked up at her with innocent eyes. He might have been angry a moment ago, but deep down, all he really wanted was the comfort of his mother and the taste of his beloved milk.
