Little Pavpav had always been playful — sometimes too playful, especially with his brother Titas. They loved to chase each other around the mat, swing by the chair legs, steal snacks and run away laughing. But today things changed. Pavpav became too excited, and in a moment of jealousy he nipped Titas’ hand when Mom came with the milk bottle. Titas squeaked in pain and hid behind Mom, holding his tiny hand to his chest with teary eyes.
Mom turned to Pavpav with a firm look — not angry, just disappointed. She gently placed Pavpav aside, not letting him climb into her arms like he always did. His playful energy melted instantly. He sat very small on the corner of the mat, shoulders curled, eyes big and shiny. His lower lip trembled the way only a baby monkey’s could when he knew he’d done wrong. He watched Mom comfort Titas first, cleaning the tiny bite mark and whispering soothing touches.
Pavpav didn’t scream this time. No tantrum. Instead, he sat quietly, hugging his knees, face filled with regret and confusion. He wanted to say sorry but didn’t know how. His tail slowly curled around him like a blanket, as if trying to comfort itself. Every few seconds, he peeked toward Mom with soft pleading eyes — wanting forgiveness more than milk.
Titas eventually calmed down, sipping his bottle. He looked over and saw Pavpav alone, sad and tiny. He waddled closer with his bottle still in his mouth, his little hand reaching out. Pavpav slowly lifted his head, eyes shining with hope. When Titas touched his arm gently, it was like an invitation back to family.
Mom smiled softly — lesson learned, love restored. Pavpav snuggled beside Titas, sharing warmth instead of bites. Sometimes, discipline hurts, but it teaches hearts to grow kinder.
