The afternoon sun glowed softly through the window as baby Alan sat restlessly on the floor, his little stomach rumbling. His eyes darted toward Mom, who was still preparing his milk. He could smell it — that warm, comforting scent he loved so much — but it wasn’t ready yet.
At first, Alan waited quietly, rocking his tiny body back and forth. But the seconds felt like forever. His hunger grew stronger, and patience quickly disappeared. A small whimper escaped his lips. Then another. Then a loud, angry squeal that filled the room!
“Eee! Eee! Eee!” Alan cried, his voice trembling with frustration. His tiny hands slapped the ground, his tail flicking furiously behind him. He looked straight at Mom with tearful, accusing eyes as if saying, “Why are you so slow, Mommy?”
Mom hurried, trying to cool the milk, but Alan wasn’t calming down. His little face turned red, mouth open wide, crying louder with every second. His body shook in tiny angry movements — a tantrum only a hungry baby could make.
Finally, Mom reached for him, whispering, “Alright, alright, sweetheart, your milk’s ready.” But Alan, still furious, twisted his body and squeaked again before finally giving in. The moment the bottle touched his lips, silence.
He grabbed it with both hands, drinking greedily. His big eyes softened, his breaths slowing as the warm milk soothed his tiny tummy. Between gulps, he gave a few sniffles, as if still pretending to be mad.
Mom smiled gently, watching his cheeks move up and down. “See? I told you, it’s coming,” she murmured lovingly. Alan’s tail relaxed, wrapping lazily around Mom’s arm as he continued to drink until the very last drop.
When he finished, his once-angry face looked peaceful again — eyes half-closed, tummy full, and heart calm. He leaned into Mom’s chest, letting out a tiny satisfied sigh.
Mom chuckled softly, rubbing his back. “You’re such a drama king when you’re hungry, my little Alan.”
Alan let out one last small squeak, as if to answer, “Next time, be faster, Mom.” Then, snuggling deeper into her arms, he drifted off to sleep — his anger gone, replaced by warmth, love, and a happy full belly.
