Bright child? Or not?

So my Lovely and Brilliant Wife takes her eyes off Visigoth for a moment. Next thing she knows, he's slathered himself with hot salsa. (Pace, I think.) She pops him in the tub and washes the stuff off him. Ho, hum. All in a day's work with this kid.

A few minutes later, she finds him sitting in front of an open fridge, smearing himself with habañero sauce. (In case you're a ketchupetarian or something, habañeros are reputed to be the hottest peppers on the market. This is not mild stuff. In fact, I hear rumors that this sauce may replace white phosphorus if the latter proves to be ineffectual.) Once again, Mama bathes the little hound, and he escapes with only minor burns around his mouth. A lesson learned, no?

Well, no. Apparently not. Because what does he do next but open the fridge again, open the bottle of habañero sauce, and chug it like a college kid at a frat party afraid that the beer's running out? Last I heard, he was running around the house foaming at the mouth like Cujo, screaming like a Democrat restricted to voting only once, and resisting Christina's every effort to feed him milk, ice cream, or any other substance that might ease the unbelievable firestorm he's just ignited on what used to be his tongue.

He's a year and a half old, mind you, and we have a child latch on the fridge. (We are fairly careful parents, after all, and he's our sixth, so we pretty much know what we're doing.) Moreover, I usually close sauce bottles very tightly after they're opened (much to Christina's annoyance), which means he probably opened a new one with the plastic seal on the neck. So here's the dilemma: Is he exceptionally bright because he can open the fridge and a sauce bottle lid, or is he Darwinianly backward because the first batch of burns didn't teach him that he really doesn't like habañeros all that much after all?