for fu knows who

Baby scuffs her toe in the sand, little foot clad in once-gleaming pink; one sock still white, the other unrecognizable. Up comes little head and large eyes beseeching. Little mouth pouts, "I frowns", she announces. Why does baby frown? Baby does not know. "I frowns", she offers, a little crease now appearing in the sweaty little forehead. She looks vaguely toward where, with shrieks unremitting, her cousins and siblings play in the foaming surf. A little gleam in the eye which fixes now on hapless protectors. Ice cream, says papa, in despair. Lollipop, is mama's noble contribution. Baby treats the proposals with the scathing scorn they deserve. "Wanna play", she decides. "Wanna play in the water." Oh no, baby, no. The sea is far too dangerous for you! A flash of the eye, up comes the stubborn chin. Little lower lip begins to quiver, shining eyes dim with tears, and soon, very soon, pink shoes lie stranded in a little rock pool.
Oh, but baby knows. Baby knows exactly how to get her way.