Little Max was having one of those extra-hungry afternoons. He had been playing around, climbing low branches and chasing his tail in little circles, but now all that energy was gone. His tummy started rumbling, and his patience started running out.
Mom was nearby, folding some cloths and organizing their things. Max watched her for a while, then slowly waddled over, rubbing his tiny belly. When Mom didn’t look his way right away, Max decided to do something that always worked—his special milk request pose.
He sat down right in front of her, puffed out his cheeks, and then folded his tiny hands together, just like a prayer. His eyes widened with a soft sparkle, and he made the sweetest little whining sound, followed by a pout.
Mom turned, and the moment she saw him, she laughed gently. “Oh Max, you’re so dramatic when you want milk,” she said warmly.
Max folded his hands tighter, his little eyebrows furrowed in desperation. “Hungry, hungry!” he seemed to say with every gesture. He even tilted his head a little, adding a touch of extra charm to his performance.
Touched by his cuteness, Mom picked him up and cradled him close. She warmed his milk bottle just the way he liked, and as soon as she offered it, Max grabbed it with both hands like it was the most precious thing in the world.
He drank with so much focus, his eyes closing slowly with each gulp, until finally his little belly was full. Mom gently wiped the milk from his lips, and Max gave a tiny hiccup, followed by a smile.
Mom kissed his forehead, whispering, “You always know how to ask so sweetly, Max
