It was a sunny afternoon, and Monkey Lyly was unusually quiet. Her mother, busy folding laundry, realized the silence was a little too peaceful. “Lyly?” she called out. No answer.
Curious and a bit suspicious, her mother tiptoed toward the backyard, following faint giggles and rustling sounds. As she rounded the corner, her eyes widened in disbelief.
There, in the middle of the garden, was Monkey Lyly — completely covered in mud from head to toe! Her once clean fur was now a patchy mix of brown and green. She had been playing in a puddle near the vegetable patch, tossing dirt into the air, pretending it was magic dust, and making “mud cakes” for her imaginary friends.
“LYLY!” her mother gasped.
Startled, Lyly turned around with a big grin on her face. “Mama! Look! I’m baking chocolate muffins!”
Her mother stood frozen for a moment—torn between laughing and crying. “You’re not baking, sweetheart. You’re a walking mudball!”
She scooped up the filthy little monkey, trying not to burst out laughing, though a giggle slipped through. As she carried Lyly to the bathroom, mud trailing behind them, she noticed something odd: a tiny flower pinned behind Lyly’s ear.
“Where did you get this flower?” her mother asked.
Lyly beamed. “It’s for you, Mama! I found it in the garden. Pretty, right?”
Despite the mess, her mother’s heart melted. She knelt beside the tub, setting the flower on the counter with care. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, my silly little baker.”
After a bubbly bath and a change of clothes, Lyly curled up in a towel, clean and content. Her mom gave her a big hug and whispered, “Next time, just ask before you start baking outside.”
Lyly nodded sheepishly, then added with a giggle, “Can we bake real muffins next time?”
Her mom smiled. “Deal.”
