appearances can be deceiving

The Little Ghoulie is, at first glance, a delicate little thing. Slightly small for her age, nice and round but still petite. Her eyes are big and somber, the rest of her features are -- dare I say it? -- dainty. Little nose, little mouth, little ears. (Little hair, too, but we've already covered that.) When she meets new people, she gives them a dainty little grin and they think she is so sweet and innocent and fragile.

Her Daddy and I never bought into that act.

And lately, we have proven ourselves right. Ghoulie has two favorite new tricks: First, the biggest, loudest raspberries in the world. I mean, the kind that makes giant bubbles on her chin. That trick is, admittedly, hilarious and adorable. The second, though, I could do without.

She grunts.

A lot.

Loud, long grunts that at first made both grandmothers ask when she had last pooped. But then she pooped, and kept right on grunting. She has taken to doing this in grocery store lines, in church during prayer time, and in the middle of pivotal scenes during Law and Order: SVU. And in the middle of her mommy desperately trying to blog for once.

The grunting appears to accompany teething pain, tiredness, hunger, diaper wetness, and general boredom. It also surfaces when Ghoulie does not get what she wants -- which tonight was popcorn and Craisins. If she sees anyone else eating something, she wants it. (The very same reason her Daddy now insists that her Mommy order a separate dessert when they go out, instead of saying, "Just bring a second spoon.") And if by some chance Ghoulie gets a taste of something, but then that something is taken away, look out. All hell with be broken loose by the delicate six-month-old flower.

Between Jake and I, we figured we were bound to have an opinionated, willful child. We just didn't expect that fact to surface just yet.