In the cool shade of the morning jungle, little Bubu was feeling stubborn. Mom had led him to a low-hanging tree and gently patted the trunk, encouraging him to try climbing.
“Up you go!” she chirped.
But Bubu wasn’t having it.
The moment Mom stepped back and motioned him forward, Bubu’s tiny face scrunched into a full-blown pout. He let out a sudden, loud scream that made the birds in the nearby branches fly off in alarm.
“EEEAAAAHHHH!!”
Mom blinked in surprise. She tried again, coaxing him with gentle nudges and soft hoots. But Bubu turned his head, arms crossed, tail twitching like an angry little flag.
Another scream erupted. This one even louder.
The other monkeys paused their own climbing lessons to watch. One older cousin chuckled. “He’s really not into it today!”
Bubu stomped his tiny feet on the ground and let out a third yell, his face turning red with frustration. He wanted Mom to pick him up. He didn’t want to climb, not now. Not ever!
Mom sighed, patient but firm. She didn’t give in. She knew he could do it—he just needed to try.
But Bubu flopped onto the ground in protest, throwing dry leaves into the air in defiance. His screams echoed through the jungle.
Finally, after exhausting all his fury, Bubu peeked up at the tree.
Just one small step, he thought.
He reached a shaky hand toward the bark… then stopped. Not today.
Mom wrapped her arm gently around him. “Tomorrow, my love,” her eyes seemed to say.
And Bubu, still grumpy, nestled into her lap—safe, loud, and loved.
