Sweet little Minea was not in a good mood today.
She sat alone in the corner of the play area, arms crossed, her tiny face scrunched with frustration. Her belly was growling, her energy low, and all she could think about was milk—warm, comforting milk from her mama.
But Mama hadn’t come.
Minea looked around, eyes scanning every face. No sign of her. Her little tail twitched with irritation. She waited… and waited.
The sun moved higher in the sky, and Minea’s soft grumbles turned into loud, angry chirps. She stood up and stomped her tiny feet, making her feelings known to everyone nearby.
“Eeeh! Eeeehh!” she cried, tossing a leaf aside in protest. Her little fists clenched, and she plopped down again, sulking hard. She wasn’t just hungry—she felt forgotten.
When Mama finally appeared, Minea’s eyes locked onto her with a mix of anger and relief. But instead of rushing over with joy, the baby monkey let out a sharp scolding squeak, puffed up her cheeks, and turned her back dramatically.
Mama gently approached, carrying the bottle. She chirped softly, apologizing in her own way.
At first, Minea resisted. But then… the smell of milk hit her.
She peeked over her shoulder.
Her pouty expression softened, and with a small grumble, she turned around, grabbed the bottle, and drank deeply.
Peace returned—but not without a final dramatic sigh.
Because even when they’re mad, baby monkeys still need Mama’s love… and milk.
And as Minea nestled in her mother’s arms afterward, all was forgiven.
