“Fantastic monkey!” shouted Leo, giggling as he watched the little monkey in the cartoon spin in circles and juggle bananas. It had become his new favorite phrase, something he shouted every time something exciting happened — even if it didn’t make sense. Like this morning.
Mom was trying to wean baby Mia off breastfeeding. It wasn’t going well.
“Moooom!” Leo laughed from the couch. “Fantastic monkey! Mom try to stop milk baby!”
Mom gave him a look that was part exhausted and part amused. “Yes, Leo. I’m the monkey trying to stop the milk baby,” she muttered, bouncing a crying Mia on her hip.
Mia was not happy. She had skipped her nap, refused the bottle, and now had grape jelly in her hair. The Fantastic Monkey show blasted in the background, the theme song singing, “He flips, he flings, he does wild things!”
Leo pointed at Mia, who had now taken to crawling across the floor on a mission to find Mom again. “Fantastic monkey! She’s going wild!”
Mom sighed. “That’s enough monkeys for today.”
But Mia wasn’t done. She reached Mom, gave her that sweet baby stare, and latched onto her shirt with full baby strength. Mom sat down in defeat, holding Mia close as she started nursing again.
Leo grinned. “Milk baby wins!”
Mom looked up at the ceiling. “One day,” she whispered. “One day, I’ll win.”
But for now, Mia happily drank, Leo danced around yelling “Fantastic monkey!” and the cartoon monkey somersaulted on the screen.
In the circus of daily life, Mom was the ringmaster, trying to keep the peace between the milk baby and the wild brother. And somehow, despite it all, the chaos was kind of… fantastic.