Jasmine, the little monkey with a big personality, was sitting on her favorite soft mat near the corner of the hut. Her tiny hands rested on her round belly, but her eyes—those big, soulful eyes—were locked on one thing: Mom.
She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, just stared.
Mom was busy sorting some fresh fruits, unaware that her daughter had entered full hungry-mode stare. Jasmine’s lips puckered slightly, and her ears twitched as she watched each banana go into the basket. Her gaze sharpened, laser-focused on that golden fruit she loved the most.
Her tummy gave a small rumble.
Still, she sat politely—well, as politely as a hungry baby monkey could. But inside, she was screaming: “Mom… hello? Do you not see I’m literally starving right now?!”
Every time Mom glanced in her direction, Jasmine would straighten her back, blink dramatically, and widen her eyes even more. She didn’t want to whine or throw a tantrum—not yet. She was giving Mom her “super stare of hunger,” hoping it would do the trick.
Finally, Mom looked directly at her and paused. Jasmine froze. Their eyes met.
“Jasmine… are you hungry?” Mom said with a soft chuckle.
Jasmine instantly stood up and nodded excitedly, hopping in place like a spring-loaded toy. Mom peeled a banana and held it out, and Jasmine dashed over, grabbing it with both hands.
She munched happily, cheeks full, and gave Mom the sweetest look of gratitude.
Mom laughed, sitting beside her as Jasmine leaned her head against her lap, still chewing. The hungry stare had worked once again.
