Mato, the tiny pet monkey, was the star of the household—adorable, chaotic, and utterly devoted to his human “mom.” But when she left for work each morning, his world crumbled.
Today was no different.
The moment Mom grabbed her keys, Mato’s ears perked up. No. Not again. He scampered after her, clinging to her ankle like a fuzzy little barnacle. “Ack-ack!” he protested, but Mom just kissed his head and pried him loose. “I’ll be back soon, mischief.”
The door clicked shut.
Mato stood frozen. Then—meltdown mode activated.
First, he hurled his stuffed banana toy across the room. Then, with a dramatic screech, he launched into his signature move: the Backward Flip Tantrum™.
FLOP! He threw himself onto the rug, limbs flailing like a wind-up toy gone rogue. He rolled, kicked, and wailed, his cries echoing off the walls. The family dog, Bruno, sighed and retreated under the couch.
Mato’s tantrum peaked with a final, tragic flop—arms spread, belly-up, as if the world had ended. How could she leave me?
But then—rustling paper. Mom had left a snack bowl out.
Mato’s tantrum paused mid-squeak. Nose twitching, he army-crawled toward the treats. By the third peanut, his anger was forgotten.
When Mom returned, she found him curled up in his hammock, peanut crumbs on his whiskers. He blinked at her, suddenly innocent.
“Miss me?” she teased.
Mato launched into her arms, all drama forgiven.
