Super Koi was not just a baby monkey—she was the baby. And every evening, without fail, Mama gave her a warm bath with bubbles, soft humming, and gentle strokes that made her feel clean, loved, and royal.
But tonight… Mama was late.
The sun had already started to set. The tub was empty. The towels were still folded. And Super Koi sat in the bathroom doorway—arms crossed, tail twitching, rage building.
Then it happened.
SCREEEECH!
A furious, earsplitting scream echoed through the house.
Super Koi threw herself on the floor, flopping dramatically, pounding her little fists like thunder. “Where is my bath?!” she seemed to shout with every cry.
Mama came rushing in, towel in hand. “Koi! I’m sorry, baby! Mama was just warming your milk!”
But Koi wasn’t hearing it. She leapt up, marched in circles, and screamed again—twice as loud. Her little face was scrunched into the pout of the year. How dare Mama forget her bath time?
Mama sat down and reached out gently. “Come now, sweet girl. It’s ready.”
Koi glared.
She hesitated.
Then—suddenly—she rushed into Mama’s arms, still sobbing dramatically. She allowed herself to be lifted, sniffled once more for good measure, and was gently placed into the warm tub.
As the bubbles rose around her, Koi let out one last exaggerated sigh… and finally relaxed.
Mama kissed her wet forehead. “Drama queen.”
But Koi didn’t reply. She was already smiling under the water, soaking in warmth and victory.
