The soft afternoon light filtered through the leaves, casting a gentle glow over the nursery. All the baby monkeys were napping peacefully—except for one.
Ricky.
He stirred in his sleep, his little fingers twitching. Then his eyes flew open. His belly gave a loud grumble.
He blinked, looked around, and realized something very important:
He was HUNGRY.
At first, he whimpered quietly. A soft, sleepy sound. But then… it exploded.
“WAAAHHH!!”
The cry rang through the room like a siren.
Ricky sat up, eyes wide, cheeks puffed, and tears starting to roll. His lips quivered, and his tiny hands reached toward the sky like he was calling for a miracle.
“Milk! Milk!” he seemed to beg in his baby voice.
Other monkeys stirred, annoyed.
“Ricky again…” mumbled Tauch.
“Why always so dramatic?” yawned Jelly.
But Ricky didn’t care. His tummy was empty, and to him, that was the end of the world.
A caretaker rushed in with a bottle. “Oh no, Ricky! You just woke up, didn’t you? Hang on, little one.”
As soon as the bottle touched his lips, Ricky grabbed it with all his might and drank like he hadn’t eaten in days. His eyes fluttered shut again—this time not from sleep, but from pure relief.
Slowly, his cries turned into soft slurps… then into a quiet sigh.
The room fell silent again, except for Ricky’s happy hums as he finished his bottle.
Once full, he looked up at the caretaker with sleepy eyes and a milk-drunk smile, as if to say, “Thanks… but don’t be late next time.”
