In the dense canopy of the rainforest, where birds sang and the wind whispered through the leaves, one tiny capuchin monkey was waging a battle of epic proportions — against sleep.
His name was Chico, and he was the smallest of his troop, but also the loudest, the fastest, and definitely the most stubborn.
It was early afternoon — the time when most of the troop had already curled up in hammocks of vines or snuggled into the crooks of tree branches for their daily nap. The jungle was alive with buzzing insects and distant bird calls, but the capuchins were quiet now.
All except Chico.
“Nooope,” Chico chirped, hanging upside down from a low branch. His big round eyes blinked slowly, but he shook his head, slapped his cheeks, and leapt to another branch. “I’m not tired!”
He zipped across the treetops, doing flips and spins, trying to keep himself awake. Sleep was sneaky — like a panther in the dark. One second he’d be fine, and the next he’d wake up on the forest floor with leaves in his fur and no idea how he got there.
“No sleep. No way. Gotta stay up!” he muttered to himself, swinging from one vine to the next.
But the yawns were coming faster now. His limbs felt heavy, and he misjudged a leap, landing with a little “oof” on a soft patch of moss.
“Just gonna rest my eyes for one second,” Chico mumbled.
His eyes drooped.
Then — rustling in the bushes!
Chico jolted upright, fur on end. “HA! Nice try, sleep! Not today!”
He grabbed a berry from a nearby bush and mashed it into his face, hoping the tart taste would wake him up. “Oooh! Sour! Good!”
Then he made the mistake of sitting down.
“Just… for a moment,” he whispered.
A butterfly drifted past. A breeze rocked the trees like a cradle. Chico’s eyelids fluttered.
Just as he was about to nod off completely, a vine above him snapped, dropping a squirrel onto his head.
“WAH!” Chico jumped up, completely awake now. The squirrel gave him a startled look and scampered away.
“I SAID — NOT TODAY!” Chico shouted at no one in particular.
His loud cry echoed through the trees and startled a few birds into flight. One of the older capuchins peeked down from a higher branch, sleepy-eyed.
“Chico… why are you still awake?” the elder yawned.
“I’m on a mission!” Chico declared. “To beat the nap!”
The elder sighed. “Fighting sleep is like trying to outrun your own tail. You’ll never win, little one.”
Chico opened his mouth to argue, but no words came. Only a massive, uncontrollable yawn.
The elder chuckled. “Told you.”
And with that, Chico collapsed into the moss, asleep mid-protest, his arms still half-raised in defiance.
The jungle sighed, and peace returned once more.
