In the soft shade under a big old tree, little BB Monkey is putting on quite the show. She’s just a tiny thing, but when she wants attention, the whole troop knows it — and today, she wants everything her way.
Mama Monkey tries to groom her, but BB isn’t interested. She squeaks and squirms, rolling over dramatically in the grass, her little hands covering her eyes as if the whole world is just too unfair. She kicks her feet in the air, twisting side to side until she flops onto her belly, then peeks up to see if Mama is watching.
Mama is watching — and she’s not amused. With a sharp, scolding chatter, Mama pulls BB back upright, smoothing out the dust in her fur with quick, firm strokes. But BB isn’t done yet. She lets out a high-pitched whine, flopping back down in another slow, wiggly roll, like a tiny furry actor performing her greatest drama.
A few older monkeys glance over, curious about the commotion. One pokes BB gently, but she swats the hand away and rolls again, this time squealing louder as if she’s telling the whole forest how terrible it is that Mama won’t let her roll in peace.
Finally, Mama has had enough. With a soft but serious grunt, she lifts BB by the scruff, plopping her firmly on her lap. She grooms faster now, ignoring the tiny squeaks of protest. BB wriggles, tries one last dramatic flop — but Mama’s strong arm holds her still.
When the grooming is done, Mama pats BB’s head and lets her wiggle free. BB sits up, pouting for a moment — but just as quickly, she toddles off to chase a leaf in the breeze, her big drama forgotten. Mama watches her go, shaking her head with patient love.
