The early morning sun had barely risen when Baby Ricky started stirring from his sleep. His tiny stomach rumbled, and within seconds, his soft whimpers turned into loud cries. He was hungry—very hungry.
Ricky sat up, his little hands reaching out for Mom. His eyes were wide and desperate as he called out in his tiny, high-pitched voice. But Mom was busy, and he had to wait. Waiting was not something Ricky liked.
Feeling impatient, he scooted closer, tugging on Mom’s arm, whining louder. But Mom gently patted his head, trying to calm him down. “Just a moment, little one,” she seemed to say, but Ricky didn’t understand why he couldn’t have his milk right away.
Suddenly, his cries became more intense. He stomped his tiny feet, rolled onto his back, and kicked the air in frustration. His little face turned red as he threw a full tantrum. “Now! Now! Now!” his cries seemed to demand.
Mom finally grabbed the milk bottle, but Ricky was too impatient to wait even a second longer. He lunged forward, grabbing it with both hands, his mouth eagerly searching for the nipple. As soon as the warm milk touched his tongue, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. His eyes fluttered closed, and his body instantly relaxed.
Gulp, gulp, gulp—he drank as if he hadn’t eaten in days. His little fingers gripped the bottle tightly, afraid it might disappear if he didn’t hold on.
After a few minutes, his belly was full, and his once-desperate cries had turned into soft, happy hums. He nuzzled against Mom, sleepy and content. Mom kissed his tiny head, knowing that no matter how impatient he got, Ricky was still her sweet little baby.
