Anfisochka had never been known for patience, especially when it came to food. The moment her mother unwrapped the treat, its sweet aroma filled the air, instantly captivating the little girl’s senses. Her eyes widened, her mouth watered, and without hesitation, she lunged forward with a desperate plea:
“Mom, GIVE ME THE TASTE!”
But waiting for a proper bite was never an option for Anfisochka. Instead of reaching for the treat itself, she grabbed her mother’s cheek—soft, warm, and right within reach. With the determination of a tiny, ravenous predator, she latched on, her teeth sinking in just enough to make her point clear.
Her mother gasped, half in shock, half in laughter. “Anfisochka! What are you doing? My cheek is not the treat!”
But Anfisochka wasn’t letting go so easily. “I need the taste!” she mumbled against her mother’s skin, her little hands gripping tightly, her eyes filled with urgent longing.
With a sigh and a chuckle, her mother finally relented, breaking off a piece of the long-awaited treat and placing it in her daughter’s eager hands. Instantly, Anfisochka released her grip, her face lighting up as the sweet flavor melted on her tongue.
Satisfied at last, she chewed happily, her previous cheek-gnawing antics already forgotten. Meanwhile, her mother rubbed her face with a smirk. “Next time, maybe just ask nicely?”
But Anfisochka only grinned, her cheeks full, her heart content. After all, she had won the battle—and most importantly, the taste.
4o
