The sun had just peeked through the curtains of the little nursery where baby monkey Cici lived. Birds chirped outside, and the warm morning breeze carried the scent of flowers and fresh leaves. Everything about the day promised joy and playfulness—except for one little routine that Cici dreaded more than anything: her diaper change.
Cici was usually the happiest baby monkey you could ever meet. She loved to giggle when Dad tickled her tiny belly, and she clapped her hands when someone brought her a bottle of warm milk. She even had a habit of bouncing up and down whenever she saw her favorite purple toy ball rolling across the floor. But when it came time to change her diaper, her cheerful spirit seemed to melt away like ice in the sun.
Dad noticed it immediately. Every time he picked her up and carried her toward the soft blanket where he usually changed her, Cici’s smile would vanish. Her lips would curve downward, her big round eyes would fill with worry, and her little hands would cling tightly to his shirt as though she hoped to escape the moment.
“Aw, Cici,” Dad whispered kindly, kissing her furry little head. “It’s just a diaper change, sweetheart. Nothing scary.”
But Cici didn’t agree. To her, diaper time felt strange and uncomfortable. She didn’t like the cool air touching her belly. She didn’t like lying still when all she wanted was to wiggle and play. And most of all, she didn’t understand why her favorite playtime had to stop just for this.
When Dad gently placed her down, Cici’s sad little face appeared. Her lips trembled, her ears drooped slightly, and she let out a soft whimper. It was almost as if she was saying, “Why do we have to do this now? Can’t we just keep playing?”
Sometimes, she even covered her face with her tiny hands, peeking out with those sorrowful eyes that made Dad’s heart ache. She looked so pitiful that anyone watching would instantly want to scoop her up and promise her she’d never have to go through another diaper change again.
But of course, diapers must be changed, and Dad knew it was for her comfort. So he tried everything to make the moment easier. He sang silly songs, making his voice go up and down like a roller coaster. He blew gentle raspberries on her tummy to make her giggle. He even gave her favorite purple toy ball to hold while he worked quickly.
Sometimes, Cici forgot to be sad and let out a laugh. But most of the time, she stayed serious, her eyes watery, as if she felt betrayed that playtime had been paused.
“Oh, Cici,” Dad sighed with a loving smile. “You’re such a dramatic little monkey. If only you knew I’m just trying to keep you clean and comfy.”
After each diaper change, though, the sadness didn’t last. The very moment Dad lifted her back into his arms and gave her a cuddle, her face brightened again. She would snuggle into his chest, comforted by the familiar warmth and heartbeat she trusted so much. A few minutes later, she’d be back to bouncing around, squealing, and chasing her toy ball like nothing had happened.
But the next diaper change? The sadness would return all over again.
One afternoon, something especially funny happened. Cici was playing with her friend Bibi, another baby monkey who often visited. They were sitting on the mat, passing a rattle back and forth. Suddenly, Dad noticed Cici’s diaper was in desperate need of a change.
“Uh-oh,” Dad said. “Time for a quick diaper check, little miss.”
The moment Cici heard those words, her cheerful game with Bibi froze. Her shoulders slumped, her toy slipped from her fingers, and she looked at Dad with the saddest expression imaginable. Bibi tilted his head, confused. Why did Cici look so heartbroken?
When Dad carried Cici away, Bibi followed curiously, crawling after them. He watched as Dad laid Cici down and tried to comfort her with silly noises. But instead of laughing, Cici let out a tiny squeak of distress and clung to her toy.
Bibi, being a playful monkey, didn’t understand what was wrong. He picked up a small leaf from the floor and wiggled it above Cici’s head. To his surprise, she sniffled and turned her head away.
“Oh dear,” Dad chuckled. “See, Bibi? Even your funny leaf tricks won’t cheer her up when it’s diaper time.”
But Bibi didn’t give up. He waddled over to Cici, leaned in, and gave her the gentlest pat on the head. Then he plopped down beside her as if to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll sit with you until it’s over.”
And for the first time, Cici didn’t look quite as sad. Her little hand reached out to touch Bibi’s arm, and though her eyes still looked watery, her expression softened. Dad smiled warmly.
“Look at that,” he whispered. “Friends really do make everything better.”
Over the weeks, Cici slowly started to feel a little braver. Dad made diaper time into a routine filled with songs and tickles. He would always end it with a big cuddle, so Cici learned to expect comfort right after the part she disliked. And with Bibi occasionally keeping her company, she didn’t feel quite as alone.
Still, her dramatic little sad face never fully disappeared. Each time the blanket appeared, Cici’s eyes grew wide, and she let out the same sorrowful squeak.
But maybe that was just part of who she was—sensitive, expressive, and unafraid to show her emotions. And in a way, it made her even more endearing. Everyone who saw her sad little diaper-change face couldn’t help but say, “Awwww, poor Cici!” before showering her with love and kisses.
Dad often joked, “One day, when you’re bigger, Cici, you’ll laugh about this. But for now, I’ll keep singing, tickling, and cuddling until my little monkey feels better.”
Cici, of course, didn’t understand the words. But she understood the love. Every cuddle, every gentle kiss on her forehead, every silly song during diaper time reminded her that she was safe, cared for, and never alone—even in moments that made her sad.
By evening, after all the day’s ups and downs, Cici lay curled in Dad’s arms, her soft breaths steady as she drifted into sleep. Her purple ball rested by her side, and her little fingers twitched as though dreaming of play.
Dad looked down at her with a smile. “Sweet dreams, my Cici. Tomorrow we’ll play, we’ll laugh, and yes… we’ll even change diapers again. But no matter what, I’ll always be here for you.”
And though she was asleep, perhaps Cici felt the comfort of those words, because a tiny, peaceful smile crept across her lips.
Baby Cici might always feel a little sad during diaper changes, but in the end, her world was full of love—so much love that even her tears were quickly turned into laughter, cuddles, and joy.
After all, being cared for by those who love you most makes even the saddest moments easier to bear.
