Little Kobie was having a rough afternoon. While resting near the window, a sudden loud crash and barking dogs startled him awake. His heart pounded. He looked around—no Mom in sight.
At first, he whimpered softly. But when the silence dragged on, panic turned into rage.
“EEEEHHHHHH!!”
Kobie screamed like a siren, eyes full of fire and tears. His tiny legs kicked wildly, fists pounded the soft blanket, and he shrieked for the only one who could fix everything—Mom.
But she didn’t come right away. Maybe she was washing dishes or folding laundry in the next room. To Kobie, those seconds felt like forever.
Finally, she rushed in.
But instead of calming down, Kobie got louder.
He pushed her hand away with all his little strength. His cries sharpened, as if to say:
“Where were you?! Why didn’t you come faster?”
Mom knelt and gently scooped him into her arms. Even then, he stiffened and screamed louder, tail flicking and body trembling. His anger filled the whole room.
Mom didn’t flinch. She just rocked him slowly, whispering in the soft voice he knew so well.
“I’m here now, my baby. I’ve got you.”
Gradually, the storm faded. His body relaxed in her embrace, though his face still held the pout of betrayal.
He sniffled hard and clung to her shirt, burying his head into her shoulder, not quite ready to forgive—but unwilling to let go.
Mom kissed the top of his fuzzy head. “It’s okay now.”
And though his tantrum had shaken the house, little Kobie finally surrendered—not to punishment, but to love.
