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Last night, when Baby J bit me during his meal, I pulled him away and told him, "no!"

He smiled sweetly at me, looking for all the world as if my refusal to be bitten was the most hilarious thing (ha! And I thought I wasn't funny.)

I'd be wrong if I said that it wasn't at all diabolical-looking. He looked like an adorable little gremlin.

The next time I tried, he did it again, this time complete with ferocious baby grunting noises. Imagine, "Mmm! Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm!" repeated over and over, accompanied by a serious, glaring look on his face. He was again, obviously, rebuffed.

The last time it happened, I was able to talk him down from his ferocious baby grunting routine by smoothing his hair and talking to him softly. "You're a nice boy," I told him, "I know it's hard to eat with the new teeth, but it's all okay and all you have to do is calm down..." All appeared to be restored, and as he ate, he fell peacefully asleep. He looked quite angelic. I immediately felt bad for mentally comparing his previous behavior to that of a tiny monster. Apparently, I'm a sap.

And then of course he woke up twenty minutes later and screamed and refused to smile at me -- even going so far as to smile at Freckles and then turn to me, stop smiling, and look pointedly away.

At which point I sort of wanted to scream, "Dude! You bit me!" But I knew that would be counterproductive.

He remained upset and sad until we finally went to bed.

I think he didn't understand why I yelled at him.

But in the morning, he woke up and had evidently forgotten the whole thing, so, I guess, whatever.