The golden morning sun rose slowly over the little wooden house nestled at the edge of the forest. Birds chirped sweetly in the trees, and the gentle breeze carried the smell of dew and wildflowers. It was a peaceful morning — or at least it should have been.
Inside the house, Bibi, the responsible older monkey, was still fast asleep, wrapped snugly in his blanket. His soft snoring filled the room. On the other side, his little sister Lala was already awake, eyes sparkling with mischief. She stretched her arms, yawned, and peeked at Bibi.
“Bibi still sleeping,” she whispered to herself. “He always says I’m too noisy in the morning. Hmph! Maybe today I make quiet breakfast for him.”
She smiled proudly at her idea. Bibi always made her breakfast — bananas, bread, sometimes porridge. But this time, Lala wanted to surprise him. “Lala can do it! I’ll make breakfast all by myself!”
She tiptoed out of the room on her tiny feet, trying not to wake him. In the kitchen, the first rays of sunlight streamed through the bamboo window. Pots and baskets were neatly arranged. There were ripe bananas, mangoes, and some eggs Grandma Cheby had collected from the chickens.
Lala looked around excitedly. “Hmm… what should I make? Something yummy for Bibi!” she murmured, scratching her head.
Her eyes landed on the fruit basket. “Bananas!” she exclaimed. “Bibi loves bananas! But… banana alone too boring. Lala make special banana breakfast!”
She grabbed a few bananas, peeled them, and tried to mash them with a wooden spoon. But the bananas kept slipping away. “Stay still!” she scolded them. One banana flew right out of her hand and splattered on the floor. “Oops…” she giggled, looking around guiltily.
After much effort, she managed to mash the bananas into a gooey paste. “Okay, next… maybe eggs?” she said, eyeing the little basket near the stove. She picked up an egg carefully. “So round and cute,” she said, tapping it gently. But she tapped too softly, so she tried again — harder. Crack!
Yolk splashed onto her fingers and dripped onto the table. “Ewww… sticky!” she squealed, shaking her hand wildly. Some of it landed right on her face.
But Lala didn’t give up. She laughed and said proudly, “It’s okay! Cooking is fun!”
After breaking three eggs — two on purpose, one by accident — she mixed them with the banana mash. Then she remembered seeing Grandma cook pancakes once. “Maybe I can make banana-egg pancakes! Hehe!”
She poured the mixture into a pan, but she didn’t realize the stove wasn’t lit yet. She waited patiently, humming to herself, but after a few minutes, nothing happened. “Why no cook?” she asked, frowning.
She poked the mixture with a spoon — still cold and mushy. Then she turned the knob the wrong way, and a small flame suddenly burst out with a whoosh!
“Ahh!” she jumped back, tail fluffing up in fright. But after a second, she grinned. “Ooh! Fire! Cooking now!”
The smell of sizzling eggs filled the room — but not the good kind. The mixture started burning almost immediately. Smoke began rising. Lala coughed, waving her hand. “Too smoky! Oh no, oh no!” she panicked, trying to blow on it.
Just then, Bibi woke up. He sniffed the air and frowned. “What’s that smell?” he muttered sleepily. Then his eyes widened. “Wait—Lala!”
He dashed to the kitchen and froze in the doorway. The sight before him nearly made his heart stop.
The table was a mess — banana peels everywhere, broken eggshells on the floor, flour on the counter even though they hadn’t used flour, and in the middle of it all stood Lala, covered in egg, proudly holding a blackened, smoking pancake.
“Good morning, Bibi!” she said cheerfully. “Surprise! I made you breakfast!”
Bibi blinked, speechless. “Lala… what did you do?”
She beamed. “I made banana-egg pancake for you! It’s special — Lala recipe!”
He rubbed his forehead, trying not to laugh or cry. “Lala, the kitchen… it looks like a war zone!”
Lala giggled nervously. “Hehe, little bit messy. But taste good, I think!” She tore off a small piece and popped it into her mouth. Her face changed immediately. “Hmm… maybe not so good,” she said, chewing slowly, her nose wrinkling.
Bibi couldn’t help it — he burst out laughing. “Oh, Lala… you’re impossible!”
He walked over, carefully took the pan off the stove, and turned the fire off. Then he knelt beside her and said gently, “You were trying to surprise me, weren’t you?”
Lala nodded shyly. “Yes. You always cook for me. I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Bibi smiled, touched by her words. “That’s really sweet, Lala. Thank you. But next time, let’s cook together, okay? So you don’t burn down the kitchen!”
She giggled. “Okay! Together!”
After cleaning up the mess — which took a while since Lala tried to “help” by smearing flour even more — Bibi decided to turn her surprise into something real.
“Alright, chef Lala,” he said playfully, “let’s make real banana pancakes.”
Her eyes lit up. “Yay! Real pancakes!”
He showed her how to mix the ingredients properly — flour, eggs, milk, mashed banana, and a little bit of sugar. Lala stirred carefully this time, concentrating hard. “Like this?” she asked.
“Perfect,” Bibi said. “Now, pour it slowly into the pan.”
The sweet smell of cooking bananas filled the kitchen. Lala bounced excitedly. “Smells yummy already!”
When the pancakes turned golden brown, Bibi placed them on a plate and drizzled a bit of honey on top. “And done!” he announced.
Lala’s mouth watered. “Ooh! So pretty!”
They both sat down to eat. Lala took the first bite and her face lit up. “Mmm! So soft and sweet! Bibi, you’re the best cook ever!”
Bibi laughed. “And you’re the best little helper — even if you almost burned my breakfast.”
She giggled. “Next time, I’ll surprise you again. But maybe… smaller surprise!”
He smiled warmly. “That sounds like a good plan.”
After breakfast, they went outside to enjoy the sunshine. The air smelled fresh again after the smoky chaos earlier. Lala climbed onto Bibi’s shoulders, giggling.
“Bibi,” she said softly, “were you mad when I made a mess?”
Bibi looked up at her, smiling. “No, Lala. I was just… surprised. But I know you were trying to be kind. That means more to me than any breakfast.”
Lala’s face softened with affection. “I just wanted to make you happy.”
“You did,” Bibi said sincerely. “You always do.”
She hugged his head, her tail wrapping around his neck like a scarf. “I love you, Bibi.”
“I love you too, Lala,” he said with a chuckle.
The rest of the morning passed peacefully. Grandma Cheby came home later and found the kitchen sparkling clean, a small plate of leftover pancakes on the table, and two happy monkeys napping under the mango tree.
She smiled warmly. “Looks like they learned something today,” she whispered.
Bibi stirred awake as Lala cuddled beside him, still holding a banana peel like a trophy. He looked at her sleeping face and thought about her big heart — clumsy, but full of love.
He chuckled softly. “That little monkey will be the end of me,” he whispered, “but I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”
As the wind rustled through the trees and the sun climbed higher, the peaceful house once again filled with warmth — not just from the sunlight, but from the simple, beautiful bond between a brother and sister who made every day an adventure, even when breakfast went hilariously wrong.
— The End —
