It was an early morning like any other, and little Pupu the monkey was already wide awake, bouncing around the kitchen with his usual energy. He watched curiously as his mother prepared her morning coffee, the warm aroma filling the air and making his little nose twitch with interest. Pupu tilted his head, eyes wide with curiosity and longing.
“Coffeeeee,” he squeaked, tugging on her shirt and giving his best sad eyes.
His mother chuckled. “No, Pupu. Coffee is for grown-ups. Not for little monkeys like you.”
But Pupu was determined. He sat down on the floor dramatically and let out a long, high-pitched whine, holding his tiny hands together as if begging. He pointed to the mug and then to himself. “Just one sip?” his expression pleaded.
Still, his mother shook her head firmly. “No coffee, Pupu. It’s not good for your little body. It would make you jump even higher than you already do!”
That made Pupu pause. He imagined himself bouncing so high he’d hit the ceiling fan. His eyes widened at the thought—but he still wasn’t ready to give up.
He ran to the cabinet and pulled out his own little mug, the one with cartoon bananas on it. He placed it on the table next to hers and gave her the biggest, most hopeful smile he could manage.
Seeing his persistence, Mama Monkey smiled and poured some warm almond milk into his cup instead, adding a touch of cinnamon. “Here’s your own special monkey coffee,” she said.
Pupu sniffed it suspiciously, then took a sip. His eyes lit up. “Mmm!” he said proudly, sipping it with both hands like a true coffee connoisseur.
He no longer felt left out—he had his own “coffee,” and he was content. His mother ruffled his fur lovingly and kissed the top of his head.
“No more whining now, little one,” she said.
Pupu nodded seriously, then burped, making them both burst into laughter. Coffee crisis averted—at least until tomorrow.
