Little Brady, the baby monkey, sat on the ground with his tiny fists clenched and his face scrunched up in frustration. His cries rang out across the yard—loud, sharp, and heartbreaking. He wanted his mother, Libby, but she had wandered off, too distracted to notice her baby’s desperate calls for comfort.
Brady’s small chest rose and fell quickly as he threw himself into a tantrum, rolling on the dusty ground and kicking his little legs. His big eyes, wet with tears, kept searching for Mom, but every moment that passed without her attention only made him cry louder. The sound carried through the air like a plea, as if he was begging the whole world to bring her back.
Nearby, the other monkeys glanced at him curiously, but Brady was too lost in his tantrum to care. He beat the ground with his hands, his cries breaking into sharp sobs. His little heart felt heavy with loneliness. All he wanted was the warmth of Libby’s arms, the comfort of her gentle grooming, or the milk that always soothed him.
When Libby finally returned, Brady didn’t stop right away. Instead, he scrambled toward her, grabbing her fur tightly, his cries still echoing in her ears. His tantrum softened into pitiful whimpers as he buried his face against her, refusing to let go. For him, her absence felt like forever, and his little soul had been shaken by the fear of being alone.
Slowly, Libby pulled him close, grooming his messy fur and letting him cling. The cries grew faint, replaced by soft hiccups of exhaustion. Brady, though still upset, began to feel safe again. His tantrum had been loud, but at its heart was just one desperate message: “Please, Mom, don’t leave me.”
