Baby Luna woke up with her usual morning mood—full of energy, full of attitude, and definitely not ready to drink her milk. Daddy prepared her bottle, warm and perfect, but the moment she saw it, Luna crossed her arms, puffed her cheeks, and shook her head dramatically. She didn’t want milk. She wanted to play, run, and do anything except sit still and drink.
Daddy patiently called her, tapping the bottle gently, but Luna refused. She spun around, gave a tiny angry squeal, and stormed off on her wobbly little legs. Daddy followed slowly, hoping she would change her mind, but Luna had already decided—she was going on her own adventure. She squeaked and ran across the floor, her tiny feet moving as fast as they could, determined to escape milk time forever.
But her dramatic getaway came to a sudden stop.
Her foot slipped on the smooth tile, and before she knew it—plop!—Luna fell straight forward, landing face-down with a surprised “Oof!” The world went silent for half a second. Luna didn’t cry immediately. Instead, she froze in confusion, trying to understand how running away from milk had ended like this.
Then came the wail.
She cried loudly, her little fists curled, her tail shaking, calling for daddy like the world had ended. Daddy quickly rushed over, lifted her gently, and brushed off the tiny bits of floor dust from her nose and cheeks. He held her close and whispered soothingly, patting her back until her cries softened into sniffles.
A few minutes later, Luna finally looked at the bottle. Maybe… maybe milk wasn’t so bad. Daddy offered it again, and this time, Luna opened her mouth slowly, taking a small sip with trembling lips.
Warm milk filled her tummy, and her tears finally stopped.
The runaway rebel had finally surrendered—sometimes falling teaches little monkeys the most.
