Little Lyka was never the patient type. When she wanted something—especially attention—she wanted it right now.
This morning, Mom placed her gently on the table with a soft towel underneath. “Just wait here, sweet girl,” Mom said as she stepped away to grab Lyka’s milk.
But Lyka didn’t want to wait.
She didn’t like being alone.
And worst of all—she saw no milk.
Her tiny face scrunched up in fury. She gave a sharp little screech, then another, louder one. Her legs kicked, her arms waved, and she rolled dramatically from side to side.
She had entered full-on super tantrum mode.
“EEEEEEEEHHHH!!” she howled, slamming her fists down on the table.
She was furious. Why would Mom leave her here? She was supposed to be snuggled, cuddled, and fed! Not abandoned like a forgotten doll.
Her screeching echoed through the house, and finally—finally—Mom returned, holding her bottle.
“Oh Lyka…” Mom sighed with a smile, rushing over.
But Lyka wasn’t finished with her show. She screamed once more for good measure before allowing herself to be picked up.
Once in Mom’s arms, Lyka sniffled and curled into her chest, still throwing small grunts of protest as she sipped her milk. But the worst was over. Her anger melted, replaced by comfort.
Mom kissed her soft cheek.
“You really hate waiting, don’t you?”
Lyka gave a soft squeak, as if to say, “You better believe it!”
