It was a warm, sunny afternoon in the yard, and little Emma, just one month old, lay on the wooden bed beside her brother Harry. The two baby monkeys had just enjoyed a light snack of fresh fruit their mother had picked for them. Harry, always the curious one, had gobbled up his portion quickly, while Emma, being younger, had eaten at a slower pace, savoring every bite. Their mother watched them closely from a short distance, making sure they were content. The yard was peaceful, and the air carried the scent of fresh fruit mixed with the earthy aroma of the wooden bed. Emma seemed relaxed, occasionally peeking over at her big brother, who was already beginning to lose interest in the fruit.
But something was off. Even after eating, the two baby monkeys weren’t quite full. Emma’s tummy rumbled, and she started to whimper softly. Harry, always full of energy, began to fidget, looking around the yard as if waiting for something more exciting to happen.
Their mother noticed the change in their behavior. She knew her babies well, and it was clear that both were still hungry. While the fruit had been a treat, they needed more. “Just a moment, little ones,” she said, reassuring them with a gentle pat on their heads before stepping away to get the milk basket. She knew that milk would satisfy their hunger and help them rest peacefully after their meal.
As their mother disappeared into the house, she entrusted Harry with the responsibility of watching over his baby sister. “Harry, look after Emma for a moment, okay?” she said with a smile, assuming Harry would keep an eye on her.
However, Harry had other plans. Instead of paying attention to Emma, he became distracted by the small movements of leaves nearby. His little mind wandered, and he started to play with the wooden bed, scratching at its surface and jumping up and down, completely forgetting about his sister.
Emma, on the other hand, began to feel the absence of her mother. Her small, round eyes scanned the yard, searching for the comforting figure that had been there just moments ago. The more she looked and didn’t see her mom, the more anxious she became. She let out a soft cry, hoping her brother Harry would comfort her. But Harry, still busy with his games, barely even noticed.
As Emma’s cries grew louder, she started to become overwhelmed with frustration. She had a deep need to feel her mother’s warmth, to be held and fed. Her little body began to tremble, and soon, she was in full-blown temper mode. Emma’s tiny arms flailed as she lay down on the bed, her legs kicking in frustration. Her face scrunched up, and tears welled in her eyes. Her cries turned into a series of convulsions as she threw her head back, sobbing uncontrollably.
Harry glanced at her for a moment, but still, he didn’t quite grasp what was happening. To him, his sister’s temper tantrum was just another noise in the yard. He continued playing with the wooden bed, ignoring her completely.
Emma’s cries echoed through the yard, growing louder with every passing second. The little baby monkey was heartbroken, convinced that her mother had abandoned her. Her tiny body shook as she lay on the bed, rolling from side to side, unable to control her emotions. She felt utterly alone, and with her brother offering no comfort, her distress only deepened.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to poor Emma, their mother returned, holding the milk basket. She rushed over to the bed, her face filled with concern as she saw her baby girl crying so hard. “Oh, Emma, my sweet little one,” she said softly, picking her up and cradling her close.
The moment Emma felt her mother’s arms around her, the crying started to subside. Her body, still shaking slightly from the convulsions, began to relax. She nestled into her mother’s chest, feeling the familiar warmth and safety she had been missing. Harry, completely oblivious to the trouble he’d caused by ignoring his sister, finally stopped his games and sat quietly beside them.
Their mother gently rocked Emma, calming her down before giving her the bottle of milk. Emma greedily drank it, her tiny hands clutching the bottle as she slowly returned to a state of contentment. Harry, still eager for more food, also received his share of milk.
As the sun began to set, the yard was peaceful once again. Emma, now full and happy, lay snuggled against her mother’s chest, her earlier tantrum forgotten. Harry, too, was calmer, though he had learned little from the incident. The wooden bed creaked softly as their mother sat with both babies, enjoying the quiet of the evening, grateful that her little Emma had finally calmed down.
