It was feeding time at the rescue home, and Mom stood patiently near the mat, holding a warm bottle of milk in her hand. The sweet smell of milk drifted through the air, calling every hungry baby monkey to come. But one little one — Yuri — had other plans.
“Yuri!” Mom called gently, motioning with her hand. “Come here, sweetheart. It’s milk time!”
Yuri looked up from where she sat across the room, her tiny face serious, her arms crossed in protest. She knew that voice — and she knew what Mom wanted. But instead of walking over, she let out a stubborn little squeak and turned her head away.
Mom tried again, a little firmer this time. “Yuri, come here right now.”
Still, Yuri refused. She puffed her cheeks, frowned, and even stomped one tiny foot — her way of saying, “No! You come here!” The other baby monkeys watched, wide-eyed, as if enjoying the drama.
Finally, Mom’s patience began to fade. She sighed, her brow furrowing. “Yuri, don’t make me come get you.” But Yuri stayed put, shaking her head defiantly.
So Mom marched over, her expression half-annoyed, half-amused. The moment she reached down, Yuri squeaked again — but not from anger this time. Mom had already scooped her up, holding her close. “You’re such a stubborn little girl,” Mom said with a small laugh.
Yuri tried to stay grumpy, but the second the warm bottle touched her lips, her pride melted away. Her tiny eyes softened, her hands wrapped around the bottle, and peace returned.
Mom chuckled softly as Yuri drank, her earlier frustration forgotten. “Next time,” she whispered, kissing her head, “you’ll come when I call, hmm?”
But deep down, both knew — stubborn little Yuri probably wouldn’t.
