It was a warm afternoon in the yard, the kind of day where the sun cast long shadows on the ground, and the birds sang softly from the trees. Milo, the youngest of the monkey clan, was in one of his moods. Normally a cheerful and playful little monkey, today was different. He had decided to hide under the bed in the yard, curled up with a scowl etched onto his tiny face. His mother had called him multiple times, encouraging him to come out, but Milo wasn’t having it. He was furious—furious because Mommy wouldn’t pick him up like she always did when he wanted comfort.
“Come on, Milo! You can do it! Just climb up on your own,” Mommy called again, her voice firm but patient. She could see his little figure under the bed, legs tucked up against his body as he stubbornly refused to budge. His soft whimpering had escalated into full-blown cries now, his small chest heaving with frustration as tears welled up in his big, round eyes. He wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of her arms around him, but today, Mommy wasn’t giving in so easily.
Milo pounded the ground lightly with his tiny fists, his cries becoming louder, more insistent. The more Mommy called, the more he cried. His little tantrum started to take over, his face turning redder with each passing moment. He didn’t want to hear her calm encouragement; he wanted action. He wanted to be scooped up, cuddled, and reassured. But Mommy stood firm, watching him from across the yard, patiently waiting for him to calm down and make the decision to climb up on his own.
“Milo, you’re a big boy. You can do this,” Mommy said again, her tone gentle but unwavering.
Milo’s frustration reached its peak. His cries turned into wails, his whole body shaking with the force of his anger. He squeezed his eyes shut, kicking his feet in protest. His small face was now a deep shade of red, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably. He was used to getting his way—especially when he was upset—but today felt different. Why wasn’t Mommy coming to pick him up? He opened his eyes and peeked out from under the bed, hoping to see her walking toward him, arms outstretched. But she remained where she was, waiting.
Feeling defeated, Milo’s cries slowly turned into softer sobs. His energy was draining from the tantrum, and the rage that had consumed him began to fizzle out, replaced by exhaustion and a lingering sense of frustration. He buried his face in his hands, hiccupping from the effort of his crying fit. The yard, which had been filled with the sound of his wails, was now quiet, save for the occasional sniffle from Milo.
Mommy, still standing nearby, watched him carefully. She knew her little boy needed to learn how to manage his emotions, even if it was hard to watch him struggle. She walked over to the bed but didn’t bend down to pick him up just yet.
“Are you ready to come out now?” she asked softly, her voice soothing.
Milo looked up at her, his big, tear-streaked eyes meeting hers. For a moment, he hesitated, his lips quivering as if he might start crying again. But he could tell that Mommy wasn’t angry. She was just waiting—waiting for him to make the choice. Slowly, reluctantly, Milo stretched out one tiny arm toward her. He was still upset, still feeling the sting of his frustration, but deep down, he wanted to be close to her again.
With a small grunt of effort, Milo began to crawl out from under the bed. His movements were slow, tired from his tantrum. Mommy knelt down beside him as he emerged, reaching out to gently wipe the tears from his face. She smiled softly at him, pride in her eyes.
“See? I knew you could do it,” she said, finally pulling him into a warm embrace.
Milo clung to her, his little fingers gripping her fur tightly as he buried his face in her chest. His tears had stopped, but the emotions from the tantrum still lingered. Mommy rocked him gently, her arms wrapped securely around him, letting him know that even though she hadn’t picked him up right away, she was still there for him. Slowly, the tension in Milo’s small body began to melt away, and within moments, he was calm again.
