As usual, what should have been a 30-minute foray at the grocery turned into a one-hour, fifteen-minute fiasco--all because I took the young'n. Everyone who knows her is drawn to her and vice-versa, so that makes for several minutes extra; but a bigger thing now is that she's learned that the grocery is a good place with lots of yummy stuff and fun folks. She babbled clear through the store, which leads me to believe that she is a blood relative to the Bishops, regardless of her race and birth origin. And when she saw something she wanted, her babble would turn into a scream/grunt that carried particularly well throughout the store. In the time we were there, she announced to half of Falmouth that she wanted chocolate cake, Cheerios, popcorn, five people she'd never met, her brothers and Kelsey.
This is what we've been told by international adoption psychologists: "Children who have been housed in orphanages do not know how to express wants or needs."
Liars.