Little Zuji had been practicing something very important that morning—learning how to use the toilet like a big monkey. Daddy had placed a tiny wooden stool beside the toilet, guiding her with patience as she tried to balance her wobbly newborn legs. Zuji was proud, puffing her tiny chest as if she were accomplishing the greatest mission ever.
But newborn bodies are soft, shaky, and unpredictable.
As she stepped toward the seat, her tiny fingers slipped on the smooth ceramic edge. Before she even understood what was happening, Zuji let out a sharp, tiny squeak— plop! She dropped straight into the cool toilet bowl, her little legs kicking frantically, her tiny hands splashing water everywhere.
“ZUJI!” Daddy shouted, his heart exploding in panic.
Zuji froze, shocked, terrified, confused. Her huge round eyes blinked up at Daddy, shaking, her little lips trembling with fear. She tried to stand, but her tiny feet kept sliding against the slippery bowl. Each failed attempt made her whimper louder, her cries echoing around the bathroom.
Daddy scooped her out in seconds, hugging her tight against his chest. Zuji shivered in his hands, clutching his shirt with her wet fingers as she let out the saddest little cry. She wasn’t hurt—but she was humiliated, frightened, and overwhelmed.
Daddy wrapped her in a soft towel, drying her trembling body gently.
“It’s okay, baby… Daddy’s got you,” he whispered over and over.
Zuji pressed her face into his chest, still hiccupping tiny sobs. She wasn’t ready to learn toilets—not yet, not today. All she wanted was warmth, comfort, and the safety of Daddy’s arms.
Later, as she finally calmed, Zuji clung to Daddy’s finger with her tiny hand.
She wasn’t a toilet-using monkey yet.
But she was Daddy’s brave little Zuji—and that was enough.
