The morning air was crisp, with a cool breeze drifting down from the nearby hills. The sun had barely risen, and the warmth of its golden rays had not yet touched the ground. In a small wooden house near the edge of the forest, Cutis the farmer prepared a little tub of water for his newest family member—the baby monkey everyone adored.
The baby monkey, so small and fluffy, was usually lively, hopping around the house, clinging to Cutis’s shoulder, or swinging from the ropes he had hung for play. But today, it was bath day, and bath day always came with a bit of drama. The little cutie did not like the cold feeling of water, especially in the morning.
Cutis filled the basin with clean water, carefully testing the temperature with his hand. It was slightly cool, just fresh enough to clean the baby but not icy. Still, he knew the little one might protest. “Come on, little one,” he said softly, turning toward the corner where the monkey was curled up under a cloth. “It’s time for your bath.”
The baby monkey poked its head out, big round eyes blinking sleepily. Its fur was ruffled from the night, and it looked incredibly cute—but also suspicious. The moment it saw the tub of water, it let out a soft squeak and pulled the cloth back over its head as if hiding would make the bath disappear.
Cutis chuckled. “Don’t pretend I can’t see you. You need to be clean, or else your fur will get itchy.” He walked closer, and the monkey peeked out again, hugging the cloth tightly. Its little body shivered slightly—not just from the cold, but from the memory of the last bath. Water always made it uncomfortable at first, even though it felt fresh and good afterward.
When Cutis reached down to pick it up, the monkey clung to him, wrapping tiny arms around his neck and refusing to let go. “Oh, so you think holding on tight will save you from your bath?” Cutis teased. The monkey squeaked louder, burying its face in his shirt. Its tail curled tightly, as if it were trying to anchor itself away from the tub.
Cutis carried the baby closer to the basin. Immediately, the monkey started wriggling, making small noises of protest. Its furry little body trembled slightly, and it glanced at the water with wide, worried eyes. “It’s just water,” Cutis said gently. “Not too cold, I promise.”
But the baby monkey wasn’t convinced. The moment Cutis dipped one tiny paw into the water, the monkey squealed and tried to pull back. The cool sensation made it shiver, and it looked up at him with pleading eyes that seemed to say, Please, not now!
Cutis couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatic reaction. “You’re acting like this is the end of the world,” he said softly, kissing the top of its little head. “But you’ll feel so much better after this. Trust me.”
Knowing how sensitive the baby was, Cutis decided to make things easier. He warmed a little more water on the stove and mixed it into the basin, creating a more comfortable temperature. He dipped his own hand in again—it was pleasantly warm now. “See? Not cold anymore,” he said, showing his wet fingers to the monkey.
The monkey sniffed his hand curiously but still hesitated. Its body pressed against him as if begging for extra comfort. Cutis, patient as always, sat down with the baby on his lap. “Alright, let’s go slowly. No rush.” He dipped a soft cloth into the warm water and wrung it out. Then, gently, he wiped the monkey’s little arms.
The baby tensed at first, eyes wide, but then relaxed a little when it realized the cloth was warm and soothing. Its fur became slightly damp, but it didn’t squeak in protest. Instead, it leaned into Cutis’s chest for reassurance.
“Good boy,” Cutis whispered. “See? Not so bad.” He continued wiping the monkey’s body with the damp cloth instead of dunking it straight into the water. Bit by bit, the baby adjusted, enjoying the gentle touch and the warmth. The shivering slowed, replaced by tiny content sighs.
When the monkey finally grew calmer, Cutis tried lowering it gently into the basin. At first, its little hands clung tightly to his arm, and its tail wrapped around his wrist like a rope. But with his soothing voice and the water’s warmth, the baby gradually let go. Its tiny toes touched the water, then its legs, until finally it was sitting in the shallow basin.
The monkey blinked in surprise. The water wasn’t cold anymore—it felt nice, like a cozy blanket wrapping around its body. It still looked uncertain, but curiosity began to take over fear. It dipped one paw into the water, then splashed lightly, watching droplets fly.
Cutis smiled. “Ah, now you’re playing.”
The little monkey let out a happy chirp and splashed again, this time getting some water on Cutis’s shirt. He laughed, shaking his head. “So now you like it, huh? Only minutes ago you were acting like it was the scariest thing in the world.”
The bath turned into playtime. The monkey splashed with both hands, squeaking with excitement. Cutis carefully rubbed its fur with gentle strokes, making sure it stayed clean without scaring it. The baby seemed to enjoy the attention now, tilting its head as Cutis washed behind its ears.
When the bath was done, Cutis lifted the monkey out and wrapped it in a soft towel. The baby shivered again, but this time not from fear—just from the air against its wet fur. Cutis rubbed it gently, drying it off. The monkey pressed its face into the towel, enjoying the warmth.
Soon, it was dry, fluffy, and clean. Cutis held it close, letting the baby snuggle against his chest. “See? That wasn’t so bad after all. You’re warm, clean, and smelling fresh.”
The monkey gave a little chirp as if agreeing, then nuzzled against him. Its earlier drama seemed forgotten, replaced by trust and comfort.
Later that afternoon, as the sun climbed higher and the day grew warmer, the baby monkey played happily in its corner. Its fur shone in the light, soft and healthy. Cutis watched with satisfaction, remembering the morning’s struggle. Bath time might always begin with resistance, but it always ended in smiles and snuggles.
He realized something important that day: caring for the baby monkey wasn’t just about feeding or keeping it safe. It was about patience, understanding, and learning to ease its fears. Even a simple bath became a lesson in love.
And so, every time the baby monkey felt cold and tried to resist its bath, Cutis remembered to be gentle, to warm the water, to comfort it with soft words and warm towels. In the end, the little one always came around—because behind every bath was not just water and soap, but the warmth of trust and the bond between them.
