It was a sunny morning, and BB Mato was nestled snugly in his mom’s arms, his tiny fingers gripping her fur tightly. He loved being close to her, feeling her warmth and hearing her soft hums as she moved about. For Mato, there was no better place in the world than his mom’s embrace.
But Mom had other plans for the morning. She gently set Mato down on the soft ground near the garden. “Play here for a while, sweetheart,” she said, her voice calm and encouraging. Mato, however, was not having it.
The moment his tiny feet touched the ground, his face crumpled in betrayal. “Ee-ee-EEEEE!” he shouted, his cries echoing through the yard. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he threw his arms up, demanding to be picked up again.
Mom looked back, her eyes filled with a mix of patience and guilt. “Mato, you need to learn to play on your own sometimes,” she said softly, crouching to give him a reassuring pat. But Mato’s cries only grew louder, his tiny voice trembling with frustration.
He sat down hard on the ground, shaking his body in protest. His little hands smacked the earth as if to emphasize his anger. “Eeeeeek!” he screamed, his face scrunched up in defiance.
Neighbors peeked out, curious about the commotion, but Mom stayed firm. “You’re a big boy now, Mato,” she said, smiling gently.
Eventually, exhausted from shouting, Mato hiccupped and stared at Mom with big, watery eyes. She crouched down, scooping him up briefly to soothe him. “Alright, just for a little while,” she said.
Mato snuggled into her arms, his cries fading into soft sniffles. In his heart, he knew Mom loved him—even if she insisted on these “big boy” lessons.
