Morning light slipped through the leaves and fell onto the small yard behind the wooden house. The air smelled of wet earth and soap, the kind that promised a fresh start. Dad stood near a blue basin filled with warm water, rolling up his sleeves with a gentle smile. At his feet, two tiny monkeys—Coco and Bebe—sat close together, their fur clumped and dusty after a long day of curious adventures. They looked at the water with wide eyes, unsure whether to be excited or nervous.
Coco was the braver one, at least on the outside. He tilted his head, tapped the basin with one finger, and squeaked softly as if asking a question. Bebe, smaller and rounder, clung to Dad’s pant leg, hiding half his face but peeking out with bright, curious eyes. The two had been playing since sunrise—rolling in fallen leaves, splashing in a muddy puddle, and climbing the low branches near the fence. By the time afternoon arrived, they were full by dirty from head to tail.
“Alright, little explorers,” Dad said gently, his voice calm and warm. “Bath time.” He knelt down so he was at their level, letting them see that everything would be okay. Dad had learned that trust came first. Before any washing, there had to be patience.
He dipped his hand into the water and let a few drops fall back into the basin, making soft ripples. Coco leaned closer, fascinated by the movement, while Bebe tightened his grip. Dad laughed quietly. “It’s warm,” he promised, and held his hand out again so they could touch it together.
Coco reached first, brushing the surface with his fingertips. He pulled back, then tried again, braver this time. Bebe watched closely. Seeing Coco’s curiosity helped him relax, and slowly, he loosened his hold. When Bebe finally touched the water, he made a tiny sound—half surprise, half delight.
Dad lifted Coco carefully, supporting his small body with one arm. He lowered him into the basin slowly, letting Coco feel the water without rushing. Coco splashed once, then froze, eyes wide. Dad kept talking, calm and steady, telling him he was doing great. After a moment, Coco relaxed, sitting in the basin like a tiny king in a blue tub.
Bebe’s turn came next. Dad scooped him up and held him close, letting Bebe feel safe against his chest. Bebe buried his face for a second, then peeked out again. When Dad lowered him into the water beside Coco, Bebe whimpered softly—but only for a moment. Coco reached over and touched Bebe’s arm, as if to say, “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Dad smiled at that. He poured a little water over Coco’s back, then Bebe’s, careful not to splash their faces. The dirt began to loosen, floating away in thin brown clouds. With a soft cloth and a bit of gentle soap, Dad worked slowly, cleaning their tiny hands, feet, and bellies.
Coco discovered the joy of bubbles first. He poked one, then another, laughing in short chirps. Soon he was making little splashes, sending bubbles dancing across the water. Bebe watched with serious concentration, then tried to copy him. His splash was smaller, but his smile was just as big.
The yard filled with quiet happiness. Birds hopped along the fence, curious about the scene. The wind moved through the trees, carrying away the smell of dirt and replacing it with clean, soapy freshness. Dad hummed softly as he washed, a tune without words, meant only to soothe.
When it was time to rinse, Dad used a small cup to pour clean water over their fur. Coco leaned forward bravely, while Bebe closed his eyes tight. Dad made sure no water went into their eyes, wiping their faces with care. “Almost done,” he said, and both little monkeys seemed to understand.
After the bath, Dad wrapped Coco and Bebe in warm towels. Coco wriggled happily, enjoying the soft feeling, while Bebe curled up, sleepy and calm. Dad sat on a low stool, holding them close as he dried their fur, one gentle stroke at a time. The sun helped, warming their clean bodies as the towels soaked up the last drops.
Coco shook himself, sending tiny droplets flying everywhere. Bebe laughed—a small, high sound that made Dad’s heart feel light. “You two,” Dad said, pretending to scold, but smiling too much to mean it.
Once dry, Coco and Bebe looked different—brighter, fluffier, lighter somehow. Their eyes sparkled, and their fur shone in the sunlight. They felt better too, freer to move without the weight of mud and dust.
Dad set them down, and immediately they climbed onto his shoulders, each claiming a side. Coco perched confidently, while Bebe held on carefully. From up there, they could see the whole yard—the clean basin, the towels hanging to dry, and the path they would explore next.
Bath time had been more than just washing. It was a moment of care, trust, and quiet joy. Coco learned that new things could be fun. Bebe learned that he was safe. And Dad was reminded that even the smallest acts—warm water, gentle hands, and patience—could mean everything.
As the sun dipped lower, Coco and Bebe stayed close to Dad, clean, cozy, and content. Tomorrow would bring new adventures and, surely, new messes. But for now, they were happy—washed full by dirty no more, wrapped in love, and ready to rest.
