Jasmine had always been the independent one—smart, sassy, and full of attitude. But lately, something had changed. Every time Mom gave her instructions, Jasmine would cross her arms, turn her back, and pretend she didn’t hear.
“Jasmine, be gentle with the babies,” Mom said gently.
But Jasmine rolled her eyes and walked away.
That morning, things took a turn.
Baby Koy was toddling happily around the play mat, chewing on his banana rattle. Jasmine sat nearby, stewing in her own little storm cloud. She was still upset that Mom didn’t let her climb the high shelves the day before.
As Koy waddled closer to share his toy, Jasmine suddenly snapped.
“No, Koy! Go away!” she shouted, swatting his hand.
Koy stumbled backward, wide-eyed and confused. His little lip quivered, and just like that—wahhhh!—he burst into tears.
Mom rushed in and scooped up Koy, her heart pounding. “Jasmine! What happened?”
But Jasmine just stood there, arms crossed and jaw tight. She didn’t want to talk. Her anger had turned into guilt, and now she didn’t know what to do.
Mom gently rocked Koy, but her eyes were full of worry—not just for him, but for Jasmine, too.
Later, Jasmine peeked out from behind the curtain, watching Mom soothe the baby. Her heart ached. She didn’t mean to hurt Koy. She was just… mad.
Slowly, she walked over and sat beside them.
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she whispered. “And sorry, Koy.”
Mom pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you, sweetheart. But next time, talk to me when you’re upset.”
Jasmine nodded. Because deep down, she knew—no tantrum felt as bad as making Mom worry and baby Koy cry.
