Pavpav stood firmly in front of the fridge, eyes wide and full of intention. The moment mom reached for the handle, he reacted. He shook his head quickly, let out a small protesting sound, and placed his tiny body between her and the fridge. He didn’t want her to leave him—not even for fruit.
Mom paused, surprised. Pavpav looked up at her with serious eyes, then gently touched her leg, as if starting a negotiation. His mouth moved softly, making little sounds that carried a clear message: Stay with me.
When mom tried to step around him, Pavpav followed immediately, sticking close like a shadow. His tail flicked with nervous energy. He wasn’t angry. He was worried. In his mind, mom walking away—even for a moment—felt risky. What if she disappeared again?
He lifted one hand and pointed toward the fridge, then back to himself, repeating the motion. His expression was earnest, almost pleading. He wanted the fruit, yes—but more than that, he wanted mom to stay where he could see her.
Mom knelt down to his level, smiling softly. She explained gently, touching his shoulder, promising she would be right back. Pavpav listened carefully, head tilted, eyes searching her face for truth. Still unsure, he reached out and held her finger tightly, refusing to let go.
So mom changed her plan.
She opened the fridge slowly with one hand while keeping Pavpav close with the other. His body relaxed instantly. The tension left his shoulders. He leaned against her leg, watching closely as she took out the fruit. The negotiation was successful.
Pavpav made a small satisfied sound, as if to say, This is better. Together was better.
As mom prepared the fruit, Pavpav stayed close, calm and proud. He didn’t need to cry or scream. He had communicated. He had been heard.
That small moment showed something tender. Pavpav wasn’t controlling. He was attached. His negotiation wasn’t about fruit—it was about reassurance.
And mom understood.
Sometimes love looks like compromise. Sometimes it looks like a tiny monkey standing bravely in front of a fridge, asking quietly, Please don’t leave me.
