Baby A Tong was never good at waiting. When he cried, he expected Mom to come right away — to scoop him up, cuddle him, and make the world feel safe again. But this time, Mom was late.
At first, A Tong whimpered softly, hoping she would appear. When she didn’t, his cries grew louder, his little arms waving in the air. “Eee! Eee!” he screamed, his tail whipping as he stomped tiny feet against the floor. His face turned red with frustration, eyes brimming with tears.
The longer he waited, the more dramatic he became. He threw himself backward, rolling around as if the world had ended. His cries echoed through the room, full of heartbreak and anger. To A Tong, it felt like an eternity.
Finally, Mom hurried over, worried by his loud tantrum. She reached out, and the moment he saw her, A Tong leaped into her arms, clinging desperately. His chest heaved with sobs, his small fingers clutching her fur tightly as if to say, “Don’t ever leave me again.”
Mom rocked him gently, pressing kisses to his little head. She rubbed his back, whispering soft sounds to soothe his broken heart. Slowly, his cries weakened. The anger faded into sniffles, and his eyes, still wet with tears, began to close.
Within minutes, the storm was over. Wrapped in Mom’s warmth, A Tong sighed deeply and nestled against her chest, finally at peace.
Though his tantrum had been dramatic, it showed the depth of his love. For A Tong, nothing mattered more than Mom’s arms — the safest place in the world.
