The morning was calm… until it wasn’t.
Little Floyd, the baby monkey with the biggest emotions in the whole house, had been waiting for his bottle of milk. He sat by the kitchen doorway, eyes wide, hands tapping the floor, watching every move his mom made.
But breakfast was taking too long.
When mom walked past him again—carrying towels instead of milk—Floyd lost it.
He threw himself gently onto the soft rug and let out a dramatic squeal. “EEEK!” he cried, rolling onto his back, kicking his tiny feet in frustration.
“Floyd!” Mom called, surprised. “I’m coming, baby—just one more minute!”
But Floyd wasn’t having it. He arched his back, slapped the floor with his little hands, and let out the loudest, longest cry he could manage. It was full of pure baby drama.
The other monkeys peeked in from the play area. Even they paused to watch the performance.
Mom couldn’t help but laugh a little as she rushed over with the milk bottle finally in hand. “You silly boy, I told you it’s coming!”
When Floyd saw the bottle, his tantrum ended instantly. He popped up, sat upright, grabbed it with both hands, and started drinking like nothing had ever happened.
Milk dripping from his lips, he gave a little side-eye to mom—like saying, “Took you long enough.”
Mom giggled and wiped his face gently. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Mr. Drama.”
The house settled again, Floyd happy and calm, snuggled in mom’s lap, milk in hand.
And though the tantrum was short-lived, one thing was certain—when it comes to milk, Floyd doesn’t play around!
