Little Lito was the very picture of a spoiled baby monkey. No matter what time of day it was, he always wanted to be in his mom’s arms. Whether she was feeding him, walking around the yard, or even trying to take care of chores, Lito would cry and reach for her, making sure she never forgot he wanted to be held.
The moment Mom set him down, even for just a second, his little face would scrunch up and his voice would burst into loud cries. His tiny hands stretched out, shaking as if the ground itself was too scary without her touch. To Lito, the world was too big, too strange, and the only safe place was pressed against Mom’s chest, where he could feel her warmth and heartbeat.
Mom tried sometimes to encourage him to sit or play on his own, but Lito refused. He clung to her tightly, his tail wrapping around her arm, his little body trembling at the thought of being away. Even when she smiled and tried to reassure him, his cries grew louder until she scooped him back up.
Instantly, his mood changed. The tears stopped, the cries turned into soft sighs, and his eyes closed halfway in comfort. Nestled against her, he was content again, spoiled but deeply loved.
Mom knew her baby was demanding, but she also knew he had faced fear and uncertainty in his earliest days. If holding him gave him peace, then her arms would always be open.
For Lito, love meant never letting go—and for now, Mom was happy to give him all the comfort he needed.
