This little chicken followed Chamroeun everywhere, pecking, chirping, and stepping far too close for comfort. At first it seemed funny, even cute, but the constant presence slowly wore on Chamroeun’s patience. Every time he sat, the chicken rushed. Every time he ate, the chicken jumped forward, bold and stubborn, refusing to understand space.
Chamroeun’s face tightened. His tail flicked. He waved his hand to warn the chicken away, but it only returned, fearless and annoying. The pecking felt rude. The staring felt challenging. A small growl escaped Chamroeun’s throat, frustration bubbling over. He wasn’t angry without reason. He felt invaded.
The chicken clucked loudly, stepping closer again, puffing its tiny chest like it owned the place. That was enough. Chamroeun jumped back, slapped the ground, and screamed sharply. The sudden anger shocked everyone nearby. To them it was “just a chicken.” To Chamroeun it was a nonstop test of patience.
Dad rushed in, curious and concerned. He saw the chicken, then Chamroeun’s tense body. Understanding came quickly. Dad gently scooped the stubborn chicken away, setting it behind a small barrier. The chicken protested, clucking in offense, but stayed back.
Chamroeun’s breathing slowly eased. He watched carefully, making sure the chicken wouldn’t return. Dad sat beside him, placing a calm hand on his back. No scolding. Just reassurance. Chamroeun leaned closer, anger melting into relief.
The lesson was simple but important. Even small things can cause big feelings. Boundaries matter, even with tiny, stubborn chickens. Chamroeun wasn’t mean. He was overwhelmed.
Later, when the chicken stayed away, Chamroeun relaxed enough to play again. Peace returned. Sometimes, protecting calm means removing the smallest problem before it becomes a storm. With guidance, patience, and care, Chamroeun learned his feelings were valid, and harmony could return when respect was restored for everyone involved there.
