Sarabi sighed as she walked across the den, disappointment swelling up inside of her. She was a little tired of this now.
And it was all because of Simba. Her very own son.
He just didn't listen. He didn't listen to his own parents. Ever since he was born, they had tried to teach him what was right and what was wrong. They thought he understood. But lately, he just seemed so… disobedient.
For example, half the time they didn't even know where he was. Chances were that he wasn't even in the Pride Lands, and had disappeared to some far-off place. Usually, he didn't return until many hours later – often arriving back home in the middle of the night.
He'd wake up the next morning, and the same thing would start all over again. Simba had become so immature, and to be honest, Sarabi didn't know what to do. How could she make him listen to her for once? That is, if he could listen to her.
Sarabi spotted Simba in the corner of the den, sleeping on the ground, his paw around his lovely girlfriend and future queen, Nala.
Sarabi couldn't help but smile. They were a pretty adorable couple.
But that wasn't her focus right now. Her focus was on Simba. She was going to make sure that he listened.
She nudged Simba on his side with a paw. "Simba," she called. "Wake up."
Simba made a little noise in his sleep, and rolled over, as if ignoring her. Like he was telling her, "No, Mom, leave me alone."
But Sarabi wasn't going to give in that easily. She had a job to do. "Come on, Simba," she said, nudging him harder this time.
That seemed to do the trick. Simba grunted, his eyes snapping open. He turned over to face his mother, a surprised expression on his face. "Mom?" he said, sounding a little shocked to see her. "What are you doing here?"
"This may come as a surprise to you, but I live here, Simba," Sarabi retorted. "We need to talk – now."
"Talk?" Simba rubbed one of his eyes with a paw. "What do you want to talk about? I just had a weird dream about pink elephants, if you're interested in that kind of thing." He noticed the stern expression on his mother's face, and he quickly gave her a nervous smile. "Or is there something else you want to say?"
"Something else, Simba," Sarabi replied, causing Simba to gulp nervously. "I'm not happy, Simba. Not happy."
"But…" Simba didn't understand. "But what did I do? I've only been sleeping."
"You've done too much, Simba," his mother informed him. "Too much. I'm very disappointed in you."
"But I haven't done anything!" Simba protested. "Why am I in trouble if I haven't done anything wrong?"
"Where were you yesterday, Simba?" Sarabi asked, knowing what his answer was going to be.
"Uh… I went somewhere," he replied, not getting where she was going with this. "You know – with Nala and Haiba."
"And what does 'somewhere' mean?" retorted Sarabi. "I want to know where, Simba. Where did you go?"
"To some place in the middle of nowhere," Simba told her. "Don't worry, though. That frog won't be causing any more trouble."
"Frog?" Sarabi raised an eyebrow. "Simba, what are you talking about? You see, this is what I mean. You lie to me, and you don't listen."
"What?" Simba's eyes widened.
"Don't you use that tone with me, young man," Sarabi snapped. "I'm your mother, and it's about time you showed me some respect for once. You're always disobeying me and your father."
"How?" Simba still didn't understand. "I'm just doing my own thing. What do you want from me?"
"You never tell us where you're going, Simba," Sarabi explained. "Sometimes you disappear for a whole day, and you don't come back until late at night. What are you doing? What's so important that you can't even tell your own mother?"
"I have… adventures," Simba answered, sounding a little hesitant. "Very… cool adventures, you know?"
"I don't think that's all," said Sarabi. "What happens when you go on these 'adventures', Simba? I hope you're not putting your life at risk. And Nala and Haiba's, for that matter."
"Well, sometimes they can be a little… dangerous," Simba told her shyly, looking down at the ground. "But everything works out for us in the end. It always does."
"Dangerous?" Sarabi's eyes widened. "Simba, I can't have you going out and getting yourself into trouble."
"I'm not the one getting into trouble!" Simba argued. "It's the bad guys! They're always trying to kill me!"
Sarabi gasped. "Kill you?" She was shocked. People were trying to murder her son? "Simba, this is serious. Who's trying to kill you?"
Simba waved a paw in the air. "Oh, they're all dead now, anyway."
"You killed them?" Sarabi sounded horrified.
"No, no, no!" Simba shook his head. "I didn't kill them! Well, maybe I slashed them a couple of times, but I didn't – I mean – I wasn't – I never—"
Sarabi looked down at the ground, shaking her head in disgust. "I'm ashamed of you, Simba. I can't believe I gave birth to an immature cub like you."
"'Immature'?" Simba exclaimed. "I'm not immature! Why do you keep saying that? If you could see the things I've done—"
"Then I'd probably disown you," Sarabi interrupted. "I'm absolutely disgusted with you, Simba. As your punishment, you can stay in this den for a whole month, and you're not to talk to Nala and Haiba."
"No way!" Simba yelled. "You can't tell me what to do!"
"Two months!" Sarabi shot back.
"Shut up!" Simba roared, causing the entire den to fall silent. "I hate you!"
Sarabi just stared at her son in disbelief. Had he actually said that? Was it just her imagination? Her son would never say that… Would he?
With that, Simba ran out of the den as fast as he could, not looking back once.
He never wanted to see his parents ever again. They were just a bunch of jerks. They didn't understand. If they could see the brilliant, heroic things he'd done, then they'd think they had the best son in the world.
But they were just ignorant. All they cared about were themselves.
Nala's eyes flickered open, and she slowly sat up. "Have I missed anything?"