Bath time was supposed to be calm.
That was the plan.
But no one had warned Piko, the tiniest baby monkey in the room.
Piko sat on a soft towel, legs spread, tail curled neatly beside him. His fur was fluffy, his face curious, and his mood excellent. He had just finished drinking milk and was feeling proud of himself. Life was good.
Then… the wipes appeared.
A clean, white bath wipe—cool, slightly damp, and very suspicious—was gently pulled from the package.
Piko watched closely.
His eyes narrowed.
His head tilted.
His tiny hands paused mid-air.
The wipe made a soft pulling sound.
That was mistake number one.
Piko’s eyes instantly doubled in size.
The wipe moved closer.
Mistake number two.
When the wipe lightly touched his arm—BOOM.
Piko froze like a statue.
His mouth fell open into a perfect circle.
His ears lifted.
His tail shot straight up.
For one full second, time stopped.
Then Piko screamed.
“EEEEEEE!”
He leapt backward, flailing his arms like he was under attack by an invisible monster. He spun in a tiny circle, slipped on the towel, and landed on his bottom with a dramatic plop.
The room went silent.
Piko stared at his arm.
He stared at the wipe.
He stared back at his arm.
He sniffed it carefully… then poked it with one finger.
Nothing happened.
Still suspicious, he sniffed the wipe.
Cold.
Very cold.
Piko gasped again and shook his hand violently, as if trying to fling the cold away. He jumped up, ran two steps, stopped suddenly, and looked behind him to make sure the wipe wasn’t chasing him.
It wasn’t.
But he didn’t trust it.
Slowly, the wipe approached again—this time toward his leg.
Piko held up both hands in protest.
“No no no!” his expression clearly said.
The wipe gently touched his leg.
Another dramatic reaction.
Piko let out a high-pitched squeak, kicked both feet into the air, and rolled backward like he’d been gently startled by a ghost. He scrambled back up and stood on tiptoes, hugging himself as if the wipe had personally offended him.
Then… something unexpected happened.
The wipe touched his face.
Piko froze again.
But this time—he blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The cold felt… strange.
But also… nice?
His expression slowly changed from shock to confusion. His eyebrows furrowed. He leaned forward and allowed the wipe to touch his cheek again.
He gasped—but softer this time.
The wipe moved gently across his face, removing dirt and milk. Piko’s eyes fluttered. His shoulders relaxed. His tail slowly lowered.
Then—
He giggled.
A small, bubbly laugh escaped his mouth. He grabbed the wipe with both hands and pressed it against his face himself, rubbing enthusiastically like a tiny professional.
“MMM!”
He wiped his ears.
His belly.
His feet.
Then he slapped the wipe onto his head dramatically and laughed even harder, flopping backward in joy. He rolled around, clutched the wipe, and squealed happily.
Now the wipe was his friend.
His best friend.
When bath time ended and the wipe was taken away, Piko protested loudly. He reached out, grabbed the edge of the towel, and searched for it with determination.
“EEE!”
How dare they remove the magical cold square?
Piko finally settled down, clean, fluffy, and extremely pleased with himself. He sat proudly, chest puffed out, fur shining, holding the wipe like a trophy.
From shock… to fear… to love—all in five minutes.
Bath time was no longer calm.
But it was unforgettable.
And Piko?
He was already waiting for the next wipe.
