Baby monkey Linda dropped to the floor in a burst of anger the moment Mom said no. What followed was a full tantrum—raw, loud, and impossible to ignore. She slapped the ground with her tiny hands, kicked her feet, and screamed with all the strength her small body could summon. Her face flushed red, eyes squeezed tight, every cry filled with frustration.
Linda wasn’t just upset. She felt misunderstood. Moments earlier, she had wanted Mom’s attention, maybe to be picked up or given something she desired. When that didn’t happen, her emotions overflowed. The floor became her stage, and anger poured out in rolling movements and sharp cries that echoed through the room.
Mom stood nearby, calm but firm. She knew Linda’s temper well. This wasn’t the first time emotions had taken control, and it wouldn’t be the last. Still, Mom didn’t shout. She watched, giving Linda space to release what she couldn’t yet explain with words.
Linda rolled onto her side, then back again, pounding the floor as if it could feel her feelings. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Between screams, she glanced up at Mom, checking for a reaction. When she didn’t get instant comfort, the cries grew louder. Anger mixed with sadness, and her body trembled from the effort.
After several long moments, Linda’s energy began to fade. The kicks slowed. The screams softened into broken sobs. Mom knelt down then, not to reward the tantrum, but to reconnect. She spoke gently, explaining with a soft voice and steady presence.
Linda crawled closer, still upset but tired now. When Mom finally lifted her, the storm inside her eased. Her head rested against Mom’s shoulder, breathing uneven but calming. The anger melted into exhaustion.
This tantrum wasn’t about being naughty. It was about learning emotions. Linda didn’t yet know how to wait or accept limits. With patience and consistency, Mom helped her feel safe again—showing that love stays, even when tempers flare.
