The golden light of the early morning sun filtered through the trees, filling the little yard with warmth. The house was still quiet, but inside the animal corner, two tiny baby monkeys named Sumi and Bon were already awake. Their big curious eyes sparkled with mischief as they looked around, eager for the day to begin.
Sumi, the smaller one, had soft brown fur and a gentle face that always seemed to be filled with wonder. Bon, slightly bigger, was known for his boundless energy and playful antics. They were like two pieces of a puzzle—different in spirit, yet inseparable in everything they did.
This morning, both of them had only one thought in their minds: milk.
“Bon!” squeaked Sumi, tugging on his brother’s tiny arm. “I think Daddy’s already waiting with the milk. Let’s go!”
Bon’s ears perked up instantly. The sound of the word milk was enough to send him into action. He hopped from the wooden railing, landing clumsily but determined, and said with a grin, “Last one there doesn’t get the first sip!”
And just like that, the two little monkeys bolted toward the porch where their dad usually sat with their morning bottles.
Their dad, a kind man who had been taking care of them since they were rescued as infants, was already seated with two bottles of warm milk in his hands. He had prepared them carefully, making sure the temperature was just right. Every morning, this routine filled the space with laughter and joy, as Sumi and Bon made their dramatic entrance like it was a race for treasure.
From a distance, he could hear their little feet tapping against the ground and their playful squeals. He chuckled softly. “Here they come,” he whispered to himself, lifting the bottles in the air like a prize to be won.
Sumi dashed forward, his tiny legs moving as quickly as they could carry him. He was smaller, but his determination often gave him surprising speed. Bon, however, was stronger and a little faster, bounding forward with leaps that made him look like he was flying.
They ran side by side, then bumped into each other mid-way.
“Hey, don’t push me!” cried Sumi, trying to regain his balance.
“You pushed me first!” Bon argued, but his laughter gave away the fact that he wasn’t really upset.
Together, they tumbled and rolled in the grass, their little tails flicking in excitement. But the smell of milk was too strong to let them stop and play for long. Almost in unison, they picked themselves up and charged again toward their dad.
When they finally reached him, they both leaped into his lap at the same time, nearly knocking the bottles out of his hands. Their dad laughed heartily, wrapping one arm around Bon and the other around Sumi.
“Slow down, my little ones!” he said warmly. “There’s enough milk for both of you.”
Sumi clung tightly to his dad’s shirt, his big round eyes locked on the bottle in front of him. Bon, on the other side, reached out with his tiny hands, trying to grab the other bottle before Sumi could change his mind.
“All right, all right, here you go,” their dad said, gently handing them each their own bottle.
The moment the bottles touched their hands, silence fell. The only sound was the sweet, rhythmic sucking as Sumi and Bon began to drink. Their little cheeks puffed slightly as they enjoyed the warm milk, their eyes half-closing with contentment.
This simple daily ritual was more than just breakfast. It was a moment of love and trust. For Sumi and Bon, their dad wasn’t just the one who fed them—he was their protector, their playmate, and their comfort when they felt afraid.
Sumi often paused mid-drink just to peek up at his dad’s face, as if to make sure he was still there. Bon, on the other hand, always finished his milk quickly and then tried to sneak a sip from Sumi’s bottle.
“Bon!” Dad said with a playful scolding tone as he gently pulled Bon back. “You have your own bottle. Let your brother finish his.”
Bon gave an innocent grin, but his twinkling eyes betrayed his cheeky plan. Sumi, realizing what Bon had tried to do, hugged his bottle tighter and turned his back slightly, as if guarding a precious treasure.
Dad laughed again, shaking his head at their antics. “You two are impossible. But I love you just the way you are.”
Once the bottles were empty, the fun didn’t end. Sumi, his belly now full, climbed up onto Dad’s shoulder, snuggling against his neck. He always sought closeness, finding comfort in the warmth of Dad’s skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Bon, however, had a different idea. Full of energy from his milk, he leaped down to the ground and started running in circles. His little feet kicked up dust as he squealed with delight, stopping only to climb a nearby tree before jumping back down again.
“Look at me, Dad! Look at me!” Bon cried, swinging clumsily from a low branch.
Dad clapped his hands. “Good job, Bon! You’re so strong.”
Sumi, still perched on his shoulder, watched Bon with admiration but also a bit of caution. He wasn’t as daring as his brother. For him, being close to Dad was more exciting than climbing trees.
As the morning went on, Sumi and Bon played together in the yard, always under the watchful eyes of their dad. Sometimes they chased each other, sometimes they sat side by side picking up tiny leaves, and sometimes they simply curled up for a nap.
But no matter what they did, the memory of running to their dad for milk always made them feel safe. That race, that joy, and that love bound them closer every single day.
Their dad knew these days were precious. Baby monkeys grew quickly, and soon they would be climbing higher, exploring farther, and finding new adventures. But he also knew that no matter how much they grew, the bond created during those morning milk times would always remain.
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned shades of pink and purple, Sumi and Bon sat together on Dad’s lap again. They were tired from playing, their eyelids drooping.
Dad stroked their soft fur and whispered, “You both make my days brighter. Tomorrow morning, we’ll have our milk again, and you can race to me just like today.”
Sumi let out a tiny yawn and curled into his dad’s chest. Bon, though still fighting sleep, eventually rested his head on Dad’s arm.
The yard grew quiet again, but it was filled with warmth—warmth from the milk, from the love they shared, and from the bond of a little family who found happiness in the simplest of things.
