Monkey Lyly had always been curious and a little mischievous. That afternoon, after playing outside, she noticed her shoes were covered in dirt and grass stains. She frowned at the messy sight. “I can’t wear these like this,” she muttered to herself. Then, an idea popped into her clever little head.
Instead of waiting for her mother to help, Lyly dragged a chair over to the kitchen sink. With a little hop, she climbed up, plopped her shoes into the basin, and turned on the water. Splashes went everywhere as she scrubbed away with her tiny hands. Soap bubbles floated into the air, and Lyly giggled, proud of her “brilliant” solution.
Soon, the sink was overflowing with suds, and water dripped down onto the floor. Lyly, however, was too focused on making her shoes shine again. She held them up proudly, sparkling wet and squeaky clean. “Perfect!” she whispered, pleased with herself.
Just then, her mother walked into the kitchen. She froze at the sight—the sink full of bubbles, the floor soaked, and Lyly standing on a chair with dripping shoes in her hands. “Lyly!” her mom exclaimed in shock.
Lyly’s eyes went wide. She knew she was caught. Her ears twitched nervously, and she gave her mom the most innocent smile she could manage. “I just wanted clean shoes, Mama,” she said softly, hoping her sweetness would soften the scolding.
Her mother sighed, trying to hide a smile behind her serious expression. “Lyly, the sink is for dishes, not for shoes! Look at this mess.”
Lyly looked down, cheeks red, and muttered, “Oops…” But then she held up the shoes proudly and added, “At least they’re clean!”
Her mom couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head as she grabbed a towel. “Next time, let’s clean them the right way, together.”
Lyly nodded eagerly, relieved, and hopped down from the chair. Even though she made a mess, she had learned something new—and at least her shoes were shining again.
