Baby monkey Linda sat happily for a moment, her pacifier tucked safely in her mouth, her body calm and relaxed. It was her little source of comfort, the one thing that made her feel secure. Then suddenly—drop. The pacifier slipped from her mouth and fell onto the floor.
Everything changed in an instant.
Linda froze, staring at it in shock. Her eyes widened, lips trembling as she realized it was gone. Before anyone could react, she burst into a sharp, piercing cry. She threw herself onto the floor, tiny arms flailing, legs kicking wildly as frustration exploded into a full tantrum.
She screamed loudly, face red and wet with tears, pounding the floor again and again. To Linda, this wasn’t just a pacifier falling. It felt like comfort disappearing without warning. She rolled onto her side, then back again, crying harder each second, calling for help without words.
Her small body shook with emotion. She reached toward the fallen pacifier but couldn’t quite get it herself. That made her angrier. Her cries turned dramatic and desperate, echoing through the room. Anyone watching could see how deeply she felt this loss.
Mom rushed over and knelt beside her, gently lifting Linda into her arms. Linda kept crying, still upset, still hurt, even as she was held. Only when the pacifier was cleaned and placed back into her mouth did her screams finally slow.
She sucked on it tightly, gripping mom’s shirt, breathing uneven at first. Slowly, the storm inside her faded. Her body relaxed. Her cries softened into small sniffles.
Linda wasn’t spoiled. She was tiny, sensitive, and learning how the world works. For her, that little pacifier meant safety. And when it fell, her heart fell with it—until loving arms and familiar comfort made everything right again.
