In the quiet corner of the troop’s resting place, little monkey Polly sat curled up, her tiny face wrinkled with worry and longing. Her soft whimpers broke the calm morning air. She hadn’t had milk for a while, and her small belly gave faint growls. Her big round eyes searched desperately for comfort from her father monkey Popeye, who sat nearby looking stern. Polly toddled toward him, lifting her little arms as if asking to be picked up, her lips trembling as she begged with pitiful cries.
Popeye, however, stayed unmoved. He watched her with the cold, firm look of a parent trying to teach a hard lesson. Polly, not understanding why she was being ignored, started to cry louder. The sound of her sobs echoed across the tree branches. Each time she crawled closer and tried to nuzzle against him, Popeye gently pushed her away. Polly tumbled back onto the ground and burst into a sharper wail, tears wetting her furry cheeks. She pawed at her own mouth, showing how hungry she felt, begging silently for milk that wouldn’t come.
Minutes passed, and Polly’s cries grew softer yet more desperate. She circled Popeye, clutching his tail, pulling herself upright again and again, hoping for a change of heart. But Popeye stood still, jaw tight, pretending not to hear her. It was his way of telling her it was time to grow beyond milk, though his heart surely ached behind his tough face. Finally, exhausted, Polly curled into a tiny ball at his feet, hiccupping softly. Her cries faded into sniffles as she closed her eyes, still hungry but too tired to keep begging. The heartbreaking scene showed the struggle of growing up, even in the arms of a strict father.
