Lala was known in the neighborhood as a bright, curious little monkey with a love for food—especially snacks. Ever since she was adopted by kind-hearted Mom Thuy, Lala had been living a life full of care, warmth, and healthy meals. But as every child—or monkey—knows, there’s always that one craving that sneaks in. For Lala, it was crispy banana chips and sweet coconut candies.
At first, Lala was content with the meals Mom Thuy prepared: fresh fruits, leafy greens, and occasional boiled eggs. But one day, Lala discovered a hidden treasure in the back of the kitchen cabinet—a sealed box full of snacks. Her eyes lit up like fireworks on New Year’s Eve. She reached in with her little hand, grabbed a handful of banana chips, and nibbled in secret. That one bite changed everything.
From that day forward, Lala became a snack detective.
Mom Thuy had noticed the snacks disappearing little by little, but she couldn’t figure out who the culprit was. She suspected the neighborhood kids, maybe even a sneaky rat. Never in her wildest dreams did she think her adorable, innocent Lala was behind it.
Lala, meanwhile, had perfected the art of stealth. Every day, she waited for Mom to go out to hang laundry or take a call. Then she would tiptoe—yes, monkeys can tiptoe—into the kitchen, climb up the shelf, and pry open the snack box. Sometimes she even dragged a plastic chair over to reach the top cabinets. She was so proud of her cleverness.
One afternoon, Lala went a step further. Not only did she sneak some snacks, but she also found a tiny corner behind the sofa and turned it into her secret picnic spot. She placed a folded towel on the floor like a blanket, arranged her stolen snacks neatly, and enjoyed her little feast. Crumbs flew in all directions as Lala happily munched away, her tail wagging with joy.
But what Lala didn’t know was that Mom Thuy had started watching from afar.
That day, Thuy had returned home early and quietly stepped inside the house. She heard giggles and the unmistakable rustle of snack wrappers. Curious, she peeked behind the sofa and was met with a hilarious yet shocking sight—Lala sitting cross-legged, smacking her lips and grinning from ear to ear with coconut candy stuck in her fur.
“LALA!” Mom shouted, hands on hips.
Lala froze like a statue. Her mouth full of banana chips, eyes wide as saucers, and hands mid-air with another candy about to pop in. She knew she’d been caught.
Mom Thuy didn’t yell further. Instead, she gave Lala the look—the look every mother masters, the one that says, I’m disappointed, but I still love you. But Lala could feel the anger radiating from Mom’s glare like a hot summer sun.
In silence, Mom took the snacks away, cleaned up the mess, and walked off.
Lala felt terrible. Her ears drooped, and her tail stopped wagging. The joy of the snacks was gone, replaced by guilt. That night, she didn’t touch her dinner. She sat quietly in the corner, occasionally glancing at Mom, who was unusually quiet too.
The next morning, Lala decided to make things right.
She tiptoed to the garden, picked a bunch of fresh bananas, and carefully peeled them. Then, she arranged them on a plate along with some hibiscus flowers—Mom’s favorite. With her tiny hands, she scribbled a note using a crayon on paper she found in the drawer: “Sorry, Mom. I love you. No more stealing snacks. – Lala 💗”
She placed the tray on the kitchen table and waited, hiding behind the curtain.
When Mom came in and saw the gesture, her heart melted. She called softly, “Lala?”
Lala peeked out, unsure what would happen next. But Mom knelt down and opened her arms. In a second, Lala ran into her hug, clinging to her like a baby koala. Mom kissed her on the forehead and said, “I forgive you. But you have to promise me—no more sneaking around, okay?”
Lala nodded quickly and gave the biggest monkey hug she could.
From then on, the snack cabinet had a new rule. If Lala wanted a treat, she had to ask. And once a week, Mom and Lala had a special “Snack Day” where they shared banana chips and coconut candy together on the back porch while watching the birds fly by.
But every now and then, Mom would find Lala staring at the cabinet with dreamy eyes and a sly smile.
“Lala,” she’d say with a chuckle, “what are you thinking?”
Lala would giggle and shout, “Snack Day is coming soon, Mom!”
And just like that, the sneaky monkey became a more honest one. Still playful, still cheeky—but with a better understanding of trust and love.
In the end, what started as a mischievous act turned into a lesson about honesty and communication. Lala learned that the best treats are the ones shared with love, not snuck in shadows. And Mom Thuy was reminded that even the most well-behaved little ones have moments of temptation—but with patience and kindness, even the sneakiest snack bandit can change.
