The mother monkey sat on a low-hanging branch, her tail swishing in agitation. Her keen eyes studied her baby monkey, who was happily rolling around in the dirt below. Bits of leaves, twigs, and clumps of mud clung stubbornly to the little one’s fur, giving him the appearance of a tiny, chaotic ball of fluff and grime. The mother’s face twisted into a grimace. “You’re filthy!” she chided, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “How do you expect to climb trees or swing through branches looking like that?”
The baby monkey paused his frolic, tilting his head with a curious expression. He didn’t see the problem. Dirt was fun, and besides, wasn’t his fur still soft and warm? But the mother monkey wasn’t convinced. With a decisive grunt, she scooped him up, ignoring his squeals of protest.
Carrying her squirming baby to a nearby stream, the mother monkey wasted no time. She dipped him into the cool water, scrubbing his fur vigorously with her nimble fingers. “You must learn to stay clean,” she said, her voice firm but loving. “A clean monkey is a healthy monkey.”
The baby monkey splashed and wriggled, eventually giving in to the soothing sensation of the water. Despite his initial resistance, he began to enjoy the attention, chirping happily as the mother’s gentle hands worked through his fur.
Once the bath was done, the mother monkey set him on a sunny rock to dry. His fur was now shiny and soft, free of the dirt and debris that had clung to him moments earlier. She gave him an approving nod. “See? Isn’t this better?”
The baby monkey grinned, but as soon as she turned her back, he scampered off toward another patch of mud. Some lessons take time to stick.
4o
