It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and little Monkey Lyly was full of energy and curiosity. As her mother hung laundry in the backyard, Lyly wandered off toward the garden, her eyes catching the sight of a big patch of wet, sticky mud. Without a second thought, she squealed in excitement and leaped right into it!
Lyly rolled, jumped, and splashed with wild joy. Mud covered her from head to toe—her face, arms, and even the little bow in her hair! She giggled nonstop, making muddy handprints on rocks, leaves, and anything she could reach. She didn’t care about getting dirty. To Lyly, it was the best playtime ever.
But the fun didn’t last long.
Her mother turned around just in time to see Lyly holding up a handful of mud and proudly smearing it on the garden bench. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Lyly!” she called, rushing over. Lyly froze, the muddy grin on her face slowly disappearing.
“Oh no,” Lyly whispered, realizing she might be in big trouble.
Her mother didn’t yell, but her firm expression said everything. “Look at you! You’re a walking mudball!” she said, trying to hold back a smile. Instead of scolding, she gently took Lyly’s muddy hand and led her to the outdoor tap.
For the next half hour, Lyly stood in a tub while her mother washed every inch of mud off her tiny body. The water turned brown, and Lyly kept sneezing as her mother scrubbed behind her ears. “This is why we don’t play in dirty mud without asking,” her mother said with a sigh, but also with love in her voice.
After her bath, Lyly was wrapped in a warm towel and given a cup of banana milk. Her mother finally chuckled. “Next time, tell me before turning into a mud monster!”
Lyly nodded, eyes wide, already thinking about her next adventure—but maybe, just maybe, with permission first.
