Lyly, the mischievous little monkey, was at it again. It was barely 7 a.m., and the house already looked like a cyclone had passed through. Pillows were tossed in every direction, books lay strewn across the floor, and a once-neat stack of laundry was now a mountain of disarray.
In the middle of the chaos stood Lyly, tiny hands digging furiously through a toy chest. Her mission? To find her favorite treasure—the milk bottle she’d hidden the night before.
“Lyly… stop that right now!” shouted Mia from the hallway, balancing a tray of breakfast with sleepy eyes. But Lyly didn’t stop. Her ears twitched at the sound, but her determination only grew stronger.
“She knows it’s around here somewhere,” Mia muttered, setting the tray down and tiptoeing toward the whirlwind monkey.
Lyly was clever. She remembered stuffing the milk bottle behind the big, squishy teddy bear on the shelf, thinking it was the perfect hiding place. But somehow, it wasn’t there anymore. She screeched with frustration and launched into a full search-and-destroy mode.
Books? Tossed. Cushions? Flipped. A bowl of cereal on the table? Toppled—splashing milk across the wall. Ironically, not the milk she wanted.
Mia finally reached her, hands on her hips. “You little rascal. You know better than this!”
Lyly froze for a moment, then gave her best innocent grin, big brown eyes wide. She held up a rubber ducky as if that had been her goal all along.
Just then, a soft clinking noise came from under the couch. Mia crouched down and pulled out the prized bottle—half-full, slightly warm, and definitely the cause of all this morning madness.
Lyly squealed with joy and snatched it up, curling into a ball like a satisfied kitten.
Mia sighed, laughing despite herself. “One day, you’re going to outsmart us all.”
And with that, calm returned—at least until the next bottle went missing.
