It was a peaceful morning at the little farm, the sun just beginning to rise over the trees. Monkey Lyly was already awake, her mischievous eyes darting around as she tiptoed into the garden. Her mother had been working so hard lately—planting, watering, and picking vegetables to prepare for the market. But Lyly had a different plan in mind today.
With a grin, she crept over to a basket of freshly picked greens—lettuce, kale, and some ripe cucumbers—and started gathering them into her tiny arms. She glanced left and right, making sure no one was watching. Then she hurried over to the chicken coop, where her feathery friends clucked and pecked excitedly at the ground.
“I know you’re hungry,” she whispered to the chickens. “Mommy won’t mind… just a little snack for you!”
The chickens went wild with excitement as Lyly dropped the vegetables into their pen. They clucked happily, munching away. Lyly clapped her hands in delight. But her celebration didn’t last long.
“LYLY… STOP RIGHT THERE!” a familiar voice thundered across the yard.
Lyly froze. Her mother stood at the edge of the garden, hands on her hips, eyebrows raised in shock. The half-empty basket and the suspiciously quiet garden told her everything.
Monkey Lyly turned slowly, eyes wide and guilty. “I just… I thought the chickens were hungry,” she mumbled.
Her mother sighed and walked over. “Lyly, I know you meant well. But those vegetables were for the market. We work hard to grow them. Next time, ask me before taking anything, okay?”
Lyly nodded, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Her mother softened. “It’s alright. Let’s pick some more together. And later, we’ll give the chickens their proper feed.”
Lyly smiled, tail curling with happiness. Lesson learned—no more secret veggie missions.
