Where is my pudding?

There is no doubt about it. Little Cherub is a baby who knows her own mind.

She has recently discovered food - with an enthusiasm that suggests she might need to be renamed Little Piglet. Over the past few days, if she has still looked peckish after eating a meal, I have given her fruit for dessert (or "pudding" as dessert is often called here). Yesterday she had her lunch along with the rest of us. After feeding her a fair amount of her food - which she apparently enjoyed - I took a break to eat some of my own. When I turned back to give her some more, she became inexpicably grumpy. Didn't want it. Wasn't pleased. Various efforts to mollify her failed. Cherub was decidedly cross. Then it dawned on me. She wanted her pudding! She had worked out that a pause in the arrival of food normally meant that first course was done and something fruity was on its way. She was expecting fruit, and there was I trying to shovel down more of the main course she thought was finished. Result: one seriously displeased baby. I fetched fruit. One mouthful and the Cherub's angry squawks stopped ... and she proceeded to wolf down the lot.

I have a sneaky feeling that Little Cherub as a toddler could be something of a challenge.