It was a warm, breezy afternoon when little Lala wrinkled her nose at the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice her mom placed on the table. She gave it one tiny sip, then puckered her lips dramatically and pushed it away. “Mom,” she whined, “I don’t like oranges! They’re too sour!”
Her mom chuckled, wiping her hands on a towel. “Then what kind of juice would you like, Miss Lala?”
Lala’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Guava! I want guava juice! Sweet and yummy guava!” She clapped her little hands together, already imagining the cool pink drink she loved so much.
With a warm smile, Mom nodded. “Alright then. Let’s go to the garden and see if the guava tree has any ripe ones!”
Mom and Lala slipped on their hats and headed outside, the sun peeking through the trees. The backyard was full of green leaves, buzzing bees, and the scent of summer. Lala skipped ahead to the guava tree, bouncing with energy. “Look, Mom! There’s one up there! And another!”
Mom reached up and picked a few plump, ripe guavas, handing one to Lala to hold. Lala sniffed it and smiled proudly. “This is going to make the best juice ever!”
Back in the kitchen, Mom peeled and chopped the guavas while Lala stood on her little stool, watching closely. The blender whirred as the sweet fruit turned into a delicious pink drink. Lala couldn’t wait. She sipped the first glass and sighed happily.
“Mmmm, way better than oranges!” she said with a satisfied grin.
Mom laughed, handing her another glass. “Well, next time, you can help me plant another guava tree—just for you.”
And from that day on, whenever someone offered her orange juice, Lala would politely shake her head and say, “No thanks, I’m a guava girl!”
