Crazy Crap Item #243: The part where Lisa offers an apt descriptor

Recently, there's been a new addition to the hijinks on Norwood, a young lady whose antics I've yet to describe.

And that is too bad, as this young lady has much potential for mayhem and hilarity. She is Caroline, our resident toddler-ish young lady. I'm awful in guessing kids' ages, but I'm going to estimate that she's in the terrible twos. She is the third -- of four, mind you -- children of our neighbors Lisa and Don Verdon. All of the Verdon children -- four, mind you -- are adorable -- but Caroline has a special, and some might say remarkable, charm.

In looks, she is commercial-grade pretty. Big blue eyes, a flirtatious grin, a sweet shy air. At neighborhood events, I end up taking photo after photo of her because I always seem to catch her just in the midst of Gerber-style adorableness.

But do not be deceived. This little cookie is tough as nails. She stomps around on solid, slightly bowed legs like a little bulldog, barking orders at her siblings in some incomprehensible form of gutteral English I've yet to decipher. "Little Mama" is her moniker in the family. "Go tell them to come in," Lisa will tell her, referring to her older siblings, Bridget and Brady. "Braaaahhh! Cahhhh wahhh!" she will bellow as she staggers down the street at them, pointing accusatory fingers.

She is also a lady her knows her own mind. This came to the fore just yesterday at the benches. Megan had brought out a delightful repast of mini Nilla wafers, which soon took centerstage as the focus of all attention, wheedling and surreptitious cookie-stealing the main objectives.

"Maaah!! Wahhhh!" Caroline repeatedly told Lisa, holding up a finger to indicate "Mother, I feel that due to my efforts on your behalf, I deserve one meager cookie." This was repeated something like 20 times, at which point, Lisa cut young Caroline off.

Undeterred, Caroline kept an eagle eye out for Lisa, and when it was determined that "Maaaahh" was intent upon a conversation, she sidled up to the bowl and whisked away a cookie, saucer-like blue eyes never leaving her mother.

Of course, I had to rat her out, just for comedy's sake. "She had her eye on you the whole time," I informed Lisa.

"She is cunning," was the reply.