Screaming summons me into the living room.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Dom, who’d been watching the baby, “Did she fall?”
No, evidently, he’d wondered what the black object was that she’d been moving around on the coffee table. Closer inspection revealed a large struggling housefly. He knocked it out of her hand and then swatted it with his fist. (He points to the large corpse in the trash can.) Either she was mad at losing her toy (or her snack?) or she was scared by the sudden motion.
Either she’s a budding naturalist or the next karate kid.