Title: Big Baby Lazy on Forage, He’s Yelling Loud for Mom Feeding Milk
In the middle of the sun-dappled jungle, the monkey troop was wide awake and on the move. The branches shook gently as moms, babies, and young monkeys swung from limb to limb, foraging for breakfast among the figs, leaves, and soft shoots. Among them was a big baby monkey named Milo, who, despite his growing size and long limbs, still clung tightly to a habit that many of his age had already outgrown — drinking milk from his mother.
Milo was not a tiny infant anymore. His thick tail curled easily as he sat, and his fur had already started to change color like the juveniles. But when it came to foraging, Milo was far from independent. While others his age eagerly climbed the vines and plucked fruits on their own, Milo sat grumpily on a thick branch, lazily watching the others work.
“Eeek! Eee-aaaak!” Milo screamed suddenly, his voice echoing through the trees. Heads turned. His mother, Maya, who was only a few feet away searching through dense leaves, sighed and glanced back at her dramatic son.
Milo stomped his little feet on the branch, puffed up his cheeks, and let out another loud, whiny yell. He wasn’t in pain or danger — he was hungry. And not for fruits or shoots. He wanted milk.
Maya returned to him calmly, but when he leaned in to nurse, she gently pushed him back. Milo squawked louder this time, flailing his arms in frustration. She groomed his fur a little, trying to soothe him, but she didn’t offer her milk. It was her way of saying, “You’re big now. It’s time to try on your own.”
But Milo wasn’t ready. Or maybe he just didn’t want to try. Why forage when he could yell and get what he wanted?
He lay on his back, belly-up on the branch, kicking slightly like a tantrum-throwing toddler. Another juvenile monkey climbed by and offered him a half-eaten leaf. Milo looked at it with disdain and shoved it away.
The troop leader barked once from a nearby tree, and the monkeys moved further into the jungle. Maya turned and called to Milo with a soft grunt, encouraging him to follow. He whined again but leapt up and clung to her back, arms and legs wrapped around her tightly.
As they traveled, Milo kept trying to sneak in nursing moments, but Maya stayed firm. She offered comfort, warmth, and protection — but not milk. This was a new chapter in Milo’s life, and whether he liked it or not, he would need to learn how to feed himself like the others.
By midday, Milo had finally given up yelling. He sat beside Maya, eyes watching her carefully. She picked up a ripe piece of fruit and placed it near him. For a long moment, he looked at it — then slowly reached out and took a bite.
It wasn’t milk, but it was a start.
