Old Man Deng, you started eating again before everyone else!

Monkey: Old Man Deng, You Started Eating Again Before Everyone Else! 🥰🐵🍒

In the quiet heart of the jungle village, where the trees whispered secrets and the air was always rich with the smell of ripe fruit and warm earth, there lived a community of monkeys who had learned to live in harmony. They gathered each morning, chattered in the afternoons, and shared meals every evening around a large fallen log that served as their communal table. And at the center of them all was Old Man Deng.

Old Man Deng wasn’t just old—he was ancient. His fur had turned gray long ago, and his eyes, though soft and wise, had a sparkle of mischief that never faded. He was respected for his stories, his knowledge of the forest, and his habit of falling asleep in the middle of conversations. But he had one infamous quirk: he always started eating before anyone else.

“Monkey manners,” young Miko once grumbled, “don’t seem to apply to Old Man Deng.”

It was a sunny evening, and the troop had just returned from foraging. Baskets made of vines were filled with mangoes, papayas, and roasted nuts collected from the edges of the human village nearby. They gathered around the great log, passing food from paw to paw, waiting for the signal to begin.

As always, the youngest monkey, little Tupi, had the job of watching to ensure everyone was served before the meal could start. But the moment she turned to hand a piece of jackfruit to Granny Lei, a soft chomp echoed through the air.

“Old Man Deng!” Tupi squeaked in outrage. “You started eating again before everyone else!”

All eyes turned toward Deng, who was casually nibbling a banana, his tail swishing behind him. He froze mid-bite and slowly looked around with exaggerated innocence.

“Oh?” he said, his mouth half-full. “Was I supposed to wait again?”

A wave of amused murmurs rippled through the group. Granny Lei sighed. “Deng, you know the rules. You helped make them!”

Deng gave a sheepish chuckle and wiped his mouth with a curled leaf. “Yes, yes, I suppose I did. But you all take so long chatting and passing fruit, I thought I’d save time.”

Tupi crossed her arms. “You do this every time!”

Miko snorted. “Maybe it’s an old monkey privilege.”

“Privilege?” Deng raised an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me I’ve earned the right to eat first because I’m the wrinkliest one here?”

There was a pause, then the troop burst into laughter. Deng’s sense of humor always lightened the mood, no matter how many rules he broke. But still, tradition mattered, and the younger monkeys wanted to be heard.

So, the troop held a meeting after dinner—once Deng had finished his second helping, of course. They gathered under the moonlight, and one by one, they shared their thoughts. Tupi suggested a bell to signal when eating could start. Miko proposed a “food watcher” who would sit beside Deng specifically to guard the meals.

But it was Granny Lei who had the final say. “Old Man Deng,” she said kindly but firmly, “we love you. But if you keep eating before everyone else, we’re going to hide your food under a pile of leaves and not tell you where.”

Deng blinked, then chuckled again. “Fair enough,” he said, patting his round belly. “But only if I get to ring the bell.”

From that day on, Deng was given a small pebble bell. He’d shake it once, and only then would the meal begin. Sometimes, he’d still sneak a bite—but only if Tupi wasn’t watching. And when he did, she’d shout again, “Old Man Deng, you started eating before everyone else!”

And every time, laughter followed.

For in that little monkey village, rules were important—but love, forgiveness, and a shared meal meant even more.