Little Zhuly sat on a small wooden stool in the yard, her tiny hands resting on her lap. Her big, round eyes scanned the area, searching for her father. The morning sun warmed her soft fur, but all she could think about was her milk.
Her tummy rumbled. She was so hungry!
She shifted impatiently, glancing toward the house where Daddy Monkey was supposed to be preparing her milk bottle. But why was he taking so long?
“Daddy?” she called out, her voice small but urgent. No answer.
Zhuly pouted, swinging her legs back and forth. She was trying to be patient, but her hunger was making her grumpy.
Finally, the door creaked open. Daddy Monkey stepped out, holding the milk bottle in his hands. “Here I come, Zhuly!” he said cheerfully.
Her eyes brightened, and she reached out eagerly. “Milk, milk, milk!” she chanted excitedly.
But instead of giving it to her right away, Daddy waved the bottle in the air, playfully teasing her. “Are you sure you want it?”
Zhuly’s face crumpled into a frown. She puffed out her cheeks and stomped her tiny foot. “Daddy, no teasing! Give me milk!”
Daddy chuckled and finally handed over the bottle. She grabbed it quickly, wrapping her little fingers around it as she took a big sip.
“Mmm…” she sighed, her frustration instantly disappearing.
Daddy smiled and patted her head. “See? Good things come to those who wait.”
Zhuly looked up at him with a milk mustache and giggled. “Next time, no teasing, Daddy!”
Daddy laughed. “Okay, okay! But only if you promise to be patient.”
And with that, little Zhuly happily finished her milk, feeling safe and loved.
