A Tong wasn’t having any of it today.
He woke up in a bad mood, refused his morning fruit bites, and wouldn’t even smile at his favorite toy banana. When Mom tried to cuddle him, he groaned and flopped like a noodle monkey onto the floor.
“Come on, A Tong,” Mom said sweetly. “Let’s go play on the table with the soft blocks. It’ll be fun!”
A Tong’s face scrunched up. “NO!” he shouted, stomping his tiny foot.
But Mom gently picked him up anyway and placed him on the play table covered in colorful toys and plush animals.
That’s when the drama began.
He sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes glaring at everything. Mom handed him a bouncy ball—he tossed it off the table. She offered a monkey doll—he shoved it away. She played music—he yelled louder than the speaker.
“I don’t wanna play here!!” he cried.
The other baby monkeys paused, watching the meltdown unfold like a live jungle soap opera.
Emma whispered, “He’s in full volcano mode.”
Dam nodded. “Run before he explodes.”
Mom stayed calm, kneeling beside the table. “A Tong, I know you’re feeling grumpy. But this table is safe, and we have so many fun things to do.”
He sniffled, arms still tight.
Then she held up his secret favorite: the soft lion rattle that growled when shaken. His eyes peeked over his crossed arms. The growl played again.
One eyebrow raised. Then… a teeny, tiny smile.
Mom smiled too. “See? Table time isn’t so bad.”
He didn’t say a word. But slowly, he picked up the rattle, gave it one shaky shake—and sat back down, this time by choice.
