Under the wide green canopy of the forest, the mommy monkey sat quietly on a thick branch, her shoulders drooping with exhaustion. The long day had drained her strength. From sunrise until now, she had climbed, searched for food, protected her baby, and fed him again and again. Little BB, small and restless, clung tightly to her chest, his tiny fingers curling into her fur as he searched for milk once more.
BB whimpered softly at first, then louder, his hunger mixing with confusion. He did not understand why his mommy shifted her body away, why she gently pushed his mouth aside. To him, milk meant comfort, warmth, and safety. To her, this moment meant limits. Her eyes closed for a second, as if whispering to the sky, “Ah God… I am so tired.”
The mommy monkey was not cruel. Her heart was heavy, full of love. But her body was aching. She needed rest to survive, to stay strong for tomorrow. With a tired sigh, she shook her head slowly, almost like a human mother saying no. Her face showed patience, not anger. She stroked BB’s back, trying to calm him without feeding.
BB cried louder, his small voice echoing through the trees. Birds fluttered away, and the forest seemed to pause, listening to the sad plea. Still, the mother held firm. She hugged him close, rocking gently, teaching him a silent lesson about waiting and growing.
As the sun dipped lower, BB’s cries slowly softened. He rested his head against her chest, still unhappy, but feeling her warmth. The mommy monkey looked out into the distance, tired eyes filled with hope. She knew this “no” was not forever—just a moment. Tomorrow, when strength returned, love would flow again, just like milk.
