The morning was peaceful, with birds chirping softly outside. But inside the house, a little storm was brewing—one that had a name: A Tong.
His mom reached out to pick him up, but the moment her hands touched his tiny body, A Tong let out the most dramatic cry. His small face scrunched up, his mouth opened wide, and a long, loud wail filled the room. He shook his little fists, his whole body trembling with frustration.
“A Tong, what’s wrong? I just want to clean you up,” his mom said gently.
But A Tong was having none of it. He twisted and turned, rolling onto his back as if the world had betrayed him. His tiny tail flicked in anger, and his lips quivered.
His mom tried again, touching his little arm, but A Tong shrieked even louder, kicking his feet like a spoiled prince. He threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, making sure everyone knew he was very upset.
Seeing no way to calm him down, his mom sighed and sat beside him. “Alright, my little drama king, I’ll wait.”
A Tong peeked through his tiny fingers, watching her carefully. She wasn’t forcing him anymore. His cries softened into little sniffles. Slowly, he crawled closer and leaned against her, still pouting.
His mom smiled and ruffled his fur. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
A Tong grumbled, burying his face into her arm. He might have lost the tantrum battle, but he had won all the attention he wanted.
