Today I was cutting a slice of bread. You were in my arms and reached down and grabbed it. I pulled. You pulled back. I told you I'd fight you for it but it was a short fight and I let you keep it. You gnawed and gnawed and pretty soon I noticed you had gotten it soggy enough to break pieces off. Not wanting you to choke, I tried to pull the slice of bread out of your hand. You fussed and held tight. I pulled tighter. You fussed more. Finally I was able to rip most of it away from you. And then, then, you did something new. You looked at what I took away, realized you were about to loose the rest of the bread and consequently shoved the remaining bread in your mouth. You had, up until now, always been a delicate eater. Never overstuffing your mouth. Never eating too fast. I could see that you had quickly deduced that shoving it in your mouth was the only way you weren't going to get it taken away from you. And before I could reach in and retrieve it, you swallowed.

I love seeing your personality bloom my daughter.