The sun had only just risen above the trees when little Jasmine’s stomach began to rumble.
Morning was supposed to mean one wonderful thing.
Milk time.
The tiny baby monkey had been dreaming about her warm bottle ever since she opened her sleepy eyes. As soon as she saw Mom carrying her outside into the backyard, Jasmine became excited, certain that breakfast was finally coming.
But Mom had other plans.
Before milk came something less exciting.
A diaper change and bath.
At the pamper well in the backyard, Mom carefully placed Jasmine into the small bathtub and began preparing warm water to clean her after a long night.
The moment Jasmine realized what was happening, her expression changed completely.
Her eyes widened.
Her tiny lips curled into an unhappy pout.
This wasn’t milk.
This wasn’t breakfast.
This was betrayal.
A loud scream burst from the little monkey as she splashed her tiny hands against the edge of the tub.
She wanted her bottle.
Now.
Not after a bath.
Not after a diaper change.
Now.
Mom tried to soothe her with gentle words while carefully cleaning away the old diaper and washing her tiny hands and feet.
But Jasmine was not interested in negotiations.
She let out another dramatic cry that echoed across the backyard.
The birds in the nearby trees seemed to pause for a moment as if even they understood her frustration.
Jasmine kicked her little legs in protest and stared at Mom with an expression that seemed to say:
“How can anyone think about baths when there is milk waiting somewhere in this world?”
Her tiny face looked so serious and so angry that Mom almost laughed despite herself.
The poor baby monkey wasn’t being naughty.
She was simply hungry.
Very hungry.
And hunger feels enormous when you’re still small enough to fit comfortably in someone’s arms.
Mom worked quickly, gently washing Jasmine’s soft fur and wrapping her in a warm towel the moment the bath was finished.
Still, the little monkey continued grumbling with dramatic squeaks and unhappy noises.
Then Mom finally reached for the bottle.
Everything changed instantly.
Jasmine’s eyes locked onto it.
The anger disappeared.
The screaming stopped.
Even the tears seemed to vanish as if they had never existed.
Mom handed over the warm bottle, and the tiny monkey grabbed it with both hands as though she had just discovered treasure.
The first sip brought immediate peace.
The second brought happiness.
By the third sip, Jasmine looked completely different from the furious little creature who had declared war on bath time only moments earlier.
Mom smiled as she watched her drink.
“So that was the emergency.”
Jasmine ignored the comment and continued enjoying her breakfast.
The backyard grew quiet again except for the soft sounds of birds singing and tiny gulps of milk.
Soon, the baby monkey rested comfortably in Mom’s arms, warm, clean, and full.
The morning disaster had officially ended.
Mom kissed the top of Jasmine’s head and laughed softly.
Sometimes babies cry because they are scared.
Sometimes they cry because they are lonely.
And sometimes, like little Jasmine that morning, they cry because they believe breakfast should always come before baths.
In her tiny world, it was a perfectly reasonable rule.
And perhaps, after seeing her dramatic performance, Mom almost agreed.
