Bath time usually brought joy to baby monkey Jasmine. The warm water, soft bubbles, and mom’s gentle hands were part of her cozy little world. But today? Everything was different.
Jasmine was moody—super moody.
As soon as mom sat her down in the bath and reached out with her bottle, Jasmine’s mood exploded.
She snapped her head away sharply, tiny eyebrows furrowed in protest. “No!” her little cry seemed to say, loud and clear. The bottle touched her lips, but Jasmine angrily pushed it aside with her wet, wrinkly hand, sending water splashing.
Mom blinked, surprised. “What’s wrong, my baby?” she asked softly.
But Jasmine was having none of it. She flailed, sending more water flying, and let out a dramatic squeal that echoed through the room. Her body wriggled as if the water had suddenly turned too cold—or maybe her feelings had.
It wasn’t hunger.
It wasn’t the bath.
It was just one of those Jasmine days.
Mom stayed calm, holding her close in the bath, softly humming while water trickled over Jasmine’s little arms. But the baby monkey crossed her arms and let out a low, sulky grumble, glaring at the bottle like it had betrayed her.
Even her fuzzy ears drooped a little.
She didn’t want milk.
She wanted cuddles.
She wanted love.
And most of all—she wanted to be understood.
So mom set the bottle aside, wrapped Jasmine in a warm towel, and rocked her gently. Jasmine slowly began to settle, eyes blinking drowsily.
She wasn’t angry anymore.
Just tired… and maybe a little dramatic.
Such was the life of baby Jasmine—the queen of bath-time moods.
