Six beats. Frames are rough sketches — just to lock the framing & mood.
Tight, shallow focus. Dim nursery, one soft pool of light. You holding Isabella to your chest, almost whispering. No music — just room tone.
“It was three in the morning, and I asked my wife — wait, did you already feed her?”
You glance down at her, a small tired smile. Slow push-in. Soft piano fades in low underneath.
“And neither of us knew. We were both so tired we couldn’t remember the last hour.”
Over-the-shoulder. Alyssa’s phone face-up; her last feed quietly appears as a new line on the live log. No taps, no UI close-ups — it just updates, like it’s between you. Shoot the real app.
“So Alyssa and I built one log. Both our phones. She logs a feed, it just shows up on mine.”
You settle into the chair with her, your phone resting on the armrest — you’re not looking at it, you’re looking at her. Light gorgeous, falling into shadow.
“Now we both just know. No more guessing in the dark. That’s the whole thing.”
Closest, warmest shot. You look down at her, then up to camera for the first time — tired, genuine. A beat of quiet before you speak.
“We made it for us, after Isabella came. If you’ve got a newborn and a foggy brain — maybe it helps you too.”
Extreme shallow focus on her tiny hand curled around your finger. Slow fade to a clean end card.
END CARD (no VO until the last line)
Milk Monster — one live log, both parents.
Free on the App Store · code MILKMONSTER = 1 month free
#MyLittleMilkMonster
you, almost a whisper, over the card: “It’s called Milk Monster. It’s free to start.”
The cutaways that make it cinematic. Get these whenever she’s settled.
The 5 rules. When in doubt, cut toward these.