Inside a cozy home filled with blankets, toys, and the playful noise of little monkeys, Chichi was having one of her most dramatic mornings yet.
She had been climbing the curtains, throwing fruit bits from the table, and even yanking her brother’s tail. Her mom, usually calm and gentle, had finally had enough.
“Chichi!” Mom called sharply.
Chichi froze mid-jump, eyes wide. She knew that tone. It wasn’t playtime anymore.
Mom walked over, arms crossed, and stared at her little troublemaker. “How many times do I have to tell you—no biting, no throwing, and no screaming at your siblings!”
But Chichi, full of energy and attitude, crossed her arms too and gave a loud, dramatic grunt. Then—she flopped onto the floor, rolled over, and covered her eyes as if the world had ended.
“WAAAH! EHHHH!” she wailed, kicking her legs like a performer on stage.
The other monkeys peeked from their corners, curious but quiet. Mom stayed firm. She didn’t raise her voice again, but gently picked Chichi up and sat her down on a small cushion.
“Time to calm down,” she said softly. “Good behavior means we all get along.”
Chichi pouted, lips sticking out, but slowly her kicking stopped. Her big eyes peeked through her fingers. She wasn’t mad anymore—just a little embarrassed.
After a few quiet minutes, Chichi walked up to Mom and gave her a slow, shy hug.
“I know you’re learning,” Mom said, stroking her fur. “But every good monkey must know when to listen.”
Chichi nodded and climbed onto Mom’s lap, finally calm.
Dramatic or not, she knew Mom’s love was always there—even when discipline was tough.
