The moment Daddy gently placed the tiny baby monkey on the cool tiled floor, the world seemed to collapse around the little one. Just seconds earlier, he had been snuggled warmly in Daddy’s arms, expecting to be carried straight to the warm bath he loved. But suddenly—plop—he was on the ground, and Daddy was turning away to prepare the water.
The baby monkey’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Eeek! Eeeeh!” he shouted, his small face scrunching into the angriest little expression. His fluffy arms shot upward, demanding to be lifted immediately.
Daddy gave him a soft smile. “Just wait a moment, little one. Daddy is getting your warm bath ready.”
But waiting was not on the baby monkey’s plan. He stomped his tiny feet on the floor, pacing back and forth as if trying to prove just how unacceptable this situation was. His tail twitched with frustration. Every few seconds he let out another loud, dramatic cry, hoping Daddy would surrender and pick him up right away.
When Daddy didn’t return fast enough, the little monkey threw himself gently onto his bottom, puffing his cheeks out and yelling louder than before. His cries echoed through the room—half tantrum, half heartbreak. He didn’t understand why he had to sit alone, why Daddy had to leave him even for a single minute.
He stretched his tiny arms toward the doorway, desperate for Daddy to appear.
“Eeeh! Mmmmaaa!” he cried, voice shaking with frustration and fear.
Then finally—footsteps.
Daddy returned with a warm bucket of water and a soothing smile. The moment the baby monkey saw him, his anger crumbled like dust. He scrambled toward Daddy, clinging to his leg, seeking reassurance.
Daddy scooped him up instantly, kissing his fluffy head.
“All right, my little warrior,” Daddy whispered. “Bath time is here.”
And just like that, the tantrum melted away into soft, happy squeaks.
