Little Bubu, the tiniest monkey in the group, was having a seriously bad day.
It started with a cold breeze that made his nose twitch. He sneezed once. Then again. Then a third time—“Achoo! Achoo! A-CHOO!” It echoed across the shelter like tiny fireworks. His fur puffed up, his face scrunched, and he looked around as if blaming the whole world for his sneezing fit.
And then… he got mad.
He stomped his tiny feet on the ground, let out a high-pitched squeal, and threw himself backward in protest. His tiny arms flailed, and he rolled on the floor dramatically, clearly not handling this sudden cold very well.
Nearby, older monkeys stared in confusion. One even offered him a leaf—maybe thinking it was a tissue. But Bubu was not in the mood. He smacked the leaf away and gave a grumpy squeak, then rubbed his nose and sneezed again, loud and wet.
The caretakers giggled from behind the fence. “He’s got the tiniest sneeze and the biggest attitude,” one whispered.
Eventually, his mom came over, gently picked him up, and snuggled him close to her warm chest. Bubu sniffled a few more times, blinked his watery eyes, and gave one final “Achoo!” before letting out a quiet sigh.
Wrapped in her arms, he finally calmed down, no longer angry—just sleepy and stuffy.
The tantrum was over. The world had made peace with Bubu.
For now.
