Monkey Baby Bon Bon woke up with a giggle and a stretch, certain that today would be amazing. The sun was warm, the breeze was soft, and somewhere in the distance he could already hear the rustle of snack wrappers. To Bon Bon, that was a sign of good luck. But he had no idea his “lucky day” was about to take a very unlucky turn.
It all began with a spicy noodle cup.
Bon Bon loved noodles—especially the instant kind that came in bright red cups with pictures of flames and dragons. He didn’t understand the warnings printed on the label; all he knew was that the smell was irresistible. When his caretaker turned her back for one minute—just one—Bon Bon made his move. He leaped, grabbed the noodle cup, and hugged it like a treasure chest.
Steam puffed. Noodles flopped. And Bon Bon slurped up a long, slippery strand.
Then it hit him.
Fire. Actual fire. At least that’s what it felt like inside his tiny monkey mouth.
He squeaked, hopped, waved his arms, and fanned his tongue as though trying to put out an invisible flame. Tears gathered in his eyes. He snatched a banana in desperation, thinking it might help. It didn’t. He grabbed a leaf, then a piece of bread, then another noodle—somehow believing the last one would be less spicy than the first. It wasn’t.
His caretaker hurried over, gently scooping him up and offering cool water. Bon Bon gulped happily, letting the soothing chill wash over him. For a moment, he thought the worst was over.
He was wrong.
Because once Bon Bon felt better, he was full of energy again—and unfortunately, still unsupervised for a few seconds too long. That’s when he spotted the puddles. Big, muddy, glorious puddles left behind by last night’s rain. They sparkled in the sunlight like miniature lakes begging to be explored.
With a chirpy squeal, Bon Bon launched himself toward them.
SPLASH!
Mud flew everywhere—on leaves, on rocks, on the caretaker’s clean sandals. Bon Bon didn’t care. He stomped, rolled, rubbed his hands in the muck, and then gently patted it onto his own fur as though applying a mud mask. If anyone had asked, he would have said it felt “refreshing.”
But as he popped his head up from a particularly deep puddle, Bon Bon realized something tragic: he no longer looked like a cute monkey. He looked like a lumpy, brown potato with legs.
His caretaker sighed—an “I should have known” kind of sigh. She scooped up the soggy, mud-marinated monkey, holding him at arm’s length. Bon Bon blinked innocently, mud dripping from his chin.
After a long bath, a gentle towel rub, and a comforting snack (non-spicy this time), Bon Bon curled up sleepily. His unlucky day had been chaotic, messy, and fiery, yet somehow he was still smiling.
Because for Monkey Baby Bon Bon, even the unluckiest day was still an adventure worth having— as long as it ended with cuddles and snacks.
