Tiny baby monkey Kobie had just learned how to open the door. Or at least, he thought he had.
One sunny afternoon, with Mom distracted folding laundry, Kobie saw his chance. The front door was slightly open, the big metal key still in the lock. The outside world called to him — trees, birds, sunshine!
He waddled over with determination, both hands reaching for the shiny key. He tugged, twisted, leaned his full tiny body weight on it. That’s when disaster struck.
Kobie’s tiny arm slipped through the gap, and his fingers got caught between the door and the lock frame — right where the key was stuck. The door didn’t open any further, and now Kobie was trapped.
Then came the scream.
“EEEEHHHHHH!!”
A sharp, panicked cry that shook the whole house.
Mom jumped up in alarm, rushing toward the front. Kobie’s face was bright red, mouth wide open, body shaking. His cries echoed like a siren: “MAAA! MAAA!!” He wriggled and pulled, but the door held him fast.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. He wasn’t hurt badly, but he was scared beyond words. His little legs kicked the door. His tail whipped against the floor. “EEEHHHH!”
Mom gently held his shoulders, calming him, whispering, “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
With a quick turn, she removed the key, opened the door wider, and freed his hand.
Kobie flew into her arms, sobbing, shaking, but safe.
She kissed his damp forehead and rubbed his back. “No more adventures at the door, little explorer.”
Wrapped in Mom’s arms, Kobie calmed down, sniffling softly. The outside world could wait. For now, the only place he wanted to be — was home, in her hug.
