Monkey Lyly had a major craving. She wanted cake—sweet, fluffy, banana cake. Mom had made one last week, and the delicious smell still danced in Lyly’s memory. But today, Mom was busy outside washing clothes, and she had told Lyly to play quietly. However… the craving was too strong to ignore!
Lyly tiptoed into the kitchen. She looked left, then right. No mom in sight.
“Just a tiny cake,” she whispered to herself, grinning mischievously.
She grabbed a mixing bowl that was almost bigger than her head. Flour? She found a bag and dumped it right in. Pooooof! A white cloud exploded everywhere, covering her fur until she looked like a snow monkey! She giggled but kept going.
Next, eggs! Lyly cracked one… SPLAT! Onto the floor. She tried again. SPLASH! This one somehow landed on her tail. Sticky and slimy, she squealed but continued bravely. For sugar, she spilled half the jar trying to scoop just a little. Milk dribbled down the counter and onto the floor where flour had already turned into mushy footprints.
Finally, she tried to mix everything. The bowl was so full that batter splattered across the walls, the ceiling, and her face! She tasted a bit—mmmmm, delicious!—but the kitchen now looked like a bakery tornado had hit it.
Just when Lyly was about to put her masterpiece in the oven, the door swung open.
“LYLY!!!” Mom gasped, frozen in shock.
Lyly’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh…”
Flour fell from her fur as she tried to hide behind the bowl. “Sorry, Mom,” she squeaked. “I just wanted cake…”
Mom sighed, rubbing her forehead—but then she saw Lyly’s hopeful eyes and messy little paws. She couldn’t stay mad.
“Alright,” Mom said, kneeling down. “If you want cake, we’ll make it together. But first… we clean.”
Lyly nodded quickly and grabbed a sponge. She scrubbed the floor while Mom wiped the counters. Soon, laughter replaced frustration.
When the kitchen was spotless, they finally mixed a fresh batch—properly this time. The smell filled the house once again, warm and wonderful.
And when they enjoyed their banana cake together, Lyly whispered, “Thanks, Mom.”
Mom hugged her tight. “Anytime, my little baker.”
