Little Luna sat on the bamboo step outside their home, arms crossed and face scrunched into a pout. Her tiny tail twitched in frustration. Daddy had gone to the market again, and this time, it was taking forever.
She waited and waited, but the minutes felt like hours.
Every time someone passed by carrying fruit or vegetables, Luna jumped up—eyes full of hope. But it was never him. No milk. No bananas. No Daddy.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.
She stomped around the front yard, letting out loud squeaks and grumbles. She grabbed a stick and whacked it against a bucket. She even threw one of her tiny socks! Her tantrum was loud, dramatic, and full of sass.
“Why does Daddy always leave me here so long!?” her face seemed to say.
Mom watched nearby, amused but trying not to laugh. “Luna, calm down,” she gently cooed. “He’s just getting food.”
But Luna didn’t want excuses—she wanted Daddy.
Then, from down the road, a familiar sound echoed. The rattle of a motorbike.
Luna froze.
She turned her head, ears perked, eyes wide.
And there he was—Daddy, riding up with bags of fresh fruits, milk, and toys tied to the handle. The second the bike stopped, Luna ran like lightning, leaping straight into his arms with a scream of joy—and maybe a little slap on his chest for making her wait so long.
Daddy chuckled, kissing her forehead.
“I’m sorry, little rascal. I brought your favorite bananas.”
She didn’t care anymore.
She just hugged him tight and buried her face in his shirt.
Because even if Daddy took too long, he always came home.
And that was enough for Luna.
