Tiny Bibi, the baby monkey, was usually sweet and playful—but not when her tummy was rumbling. This morning, Mom was running late with breakfast, and that was simply unacceptable in Bibi’s world.
She sat on the floor, fidgeting anxiously. Her big eyes scanned the room, searching for the milk bottle. But Mom was nowhere in sight. A minute passed. Then another.
Suddenly, Bibi couldn’t take it anymore.
She threw her tiny arms in the air and let out a sharp, desperate cry. “EEEEEHHH! EHHHHH!” Her voice rang out like a siren. She screamed louder and louder, throwing herself back onto the blanket in frustration.
Her face turned red, little legs kicking, tears running down her cheeks. She crawled toward the door, hoping to find Mom—but no luck. She plopped down again, crying into her hands.
Just then, Mom appeared holding the warm milk bottle.
But Bibi was already deep in her tantrum.
She screamed louder, almost as if blaming Mom for the delay. “EHHH EHHHH!” she shouted again, tail twitching with anger.
Mom quickly sat down and scooped her up. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said gently, offering the bottle. Bibi grabbed it like it was treasure and began sucking eagerly, her cries slowly turning into soft sniffles.
Within moments, the storm calmed. Her little hands relaxed. Her eyes fluttered with relief.
Bibi drank slowly, glancing up at Mom with a final pout. It was her silent message: “Don’t be late next time.”
