Cici was a tiny baby monkey, barely past the age of needing to be bottle-fed. She was the kind of monkey that could make anyone’s heart melt—wide eyes, soft tufts of hair sticking out in every direction, and the most curious little fingers that just had to touch everything. She was playful, cheeky, and charming… but sometimes a little too curious for her own good.
As I sat there sipping my drink, I saw her approach with that mischievous sparkle in her eye. She hopped over to my side, looked at the bottle in my hand, and tilted her head as if silently asking, “What’s that?”
I smiled and held it up. “It’s just coconut water, Cici. You wouldn’t like it.”
Of course, that didn’t stop her. Before I knew it, she reached out with her tiny hands and patted the bottle. I chuckled, not thinking much of it—until she grabbed it firmly and tugged.
“Hey, hey!” I laughed. “Careful, little one!”
But Cici had no intentions of being careful. With a sudden twist of determination only baby monkeys possess, she yanked the bottle toward her, and just like that—SPLOOSH! The drink spilled all over the ground, splashing across my legs and soaking the dry dirt beneath us.
Cici froze.
For a moment, she just stared at the mess she had made. Her mouth dropped open slightly, her big eyes widened even more, and she slowly tilted her face up to look at me. It was the most ridiculously innocent “Oops!” expression I had ever seen. Her eyes said it all: “Uh-oh… I didn’t mean to do that!”
I tried to hold in my laughter. I really did. But the way she looked at me—with her hands pressed to her mouth, eyes darting from the mess to my face—was too much. I burst out laughing.
“Oh, Cici,” I said, still chuckling. “You little troublemaker.”
She blinked, then slowly crept closer, resting one tiny hand on my knee as if asking, “Am I in trouble?” I gently patted her head and wiped some of the coconut water from her chin. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” I whispered with a grin.
But Cici wasn’t done. In true monkey fashion, she turned the spilled drink into a game. She dipped her fingers in the wet dirt, smearing the coconut-flavored mud on a leaf and holding it up like a prize. Then she took a sip from her fingers, made a silly face, and looked at me again like, “See? Still good!”
I laughed even harder. It was like she was saying, “Not a waste at all!”
Soon, the other monkeys noticed her antics and came over to investigate. They sniffed the coconut-scented ground and joined in the fun, rolling in the dirt, playfully chasing each other, and turning my relaxing afternoon into a monkey mud party.
I never got to finish that drink, but I didn’t mind. Watching baby Cici turn a simple spill into a joyful moment reminded me how unpredictable and entertaining life with monkeys could be. Every little moment—good or messy—was a memory in the making.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the monkeys settled back into the trees, Cici climbed onto my lap, curled into a soft ball, and gave a little sigh of contentment. I looked down at her sleepy face and whispered, “Just try not to spill anything else tomorrow, okay?”
She didn’t answer. She was already dreaming… probably about more drinks to spill.
