Milo, the spirited baby monkey, was having one of those mornings. The sun had barely risen, yet his tiny voice was already echoing through the yard. His father had stepped out to gather food, but to Milo, even a few minutes apart felt like forever.
At first, Milo sat by the doorway, fidgeting with his tail and glancing around. He let out a soft call — a melodic “oo-oo” that was gentle, almost like a song. But as seconds ticked into minutes, the tone of his calls grew louder and sharper. His little face crumpled, eyes wide and glossy with emotion.
Soon, his calls became a full-blown performance — part tantrum, part opera. He stomped his tiny feet, threw his arms up, and let his voice ring out in high-pitched, drawn-out cries that could have melted any heart. The other animals nearby paused their morning routines just to watch.
Mom tried to comfort him, gently patting his back and whispering soothing words. But Milo wasn’t ready to be consoled; he wanted Dad. Between sobs, he kept tilting his head toward the gate, hoping to catch the first glimpse of his father returning.
Finally, after what felt like hours to Milo (but was only a few minutes), Dad appeared, carrying a bundle of fresh fruit. The moment Milo saw him, his cries transformed into joyful, musical calls. He leapt into his father’s arms, clutching him tightly and burying his face in his fur.
For Milo, the morning’s drama was instantly forgotten. But for everyone who had heard his “melodious tantrum,” it was a reminder of just how deeply a baby monkey could love and miss his family.
