Little Selena lay on the cool floor, her tiny body twisting in frustration as her cries echoed through the house. She was hungry — not just a little hungry, but desperately impatient, the kind of hunger that makes a newborn forget everything except the need for milk right now. Her face scrunched up, her fists clenched, and her legs kicked wildly as she demanded attention in the only way she knew how.
Her caregiver was just a few steps away, mixing her pure milk as quickly as possible. But to Selena, even a few seconds felt like forever. She didn’t understand waiting. She didn’t understand preparation. She only understood the emptiness in her belly, the ache that grew bigger each moment milk wasn’t in her mouth. So she cried louder, her voice rising and falling in dramatic waves — a tiny tantrum full of emotion, fear, and impatience.
The more she wailed, the more she pushed her little face into the floor, rolling slightly from side to side as if trying to find comfort anywhere. Her tail flicked, her tiny feet tapped, and her breath came in sharp, needy huffs. Every sound she made echoed her desperation: “Milk now! Milk now!”
Her caregiver glanced back repeatedly, both amused and heartbroken, whispering soothing words even while rushing to finish the bottle. Finally, when the milk was warm and ready, they hurried toward her. The instant Selena saw the bottle, everything stopped — the kicks, the wailing, the twisting. Her eyes locked on the familiar shape, and suddenly she wasn’t a tantrum storm anymore but a hopeful little baby again.
As the nipple touched her lips, she latched on instantly, drinking fast, her tiny body finally calming. Within moments, the tantrum melted away into soft, satisfied breaths.
Hunger had defeated her for a moment…
but love and warm milk brought her peace again.
