Chloë did breakfast this morning. Clad in her diaper, her blue sunhat, and her matching blue handbag, she paraded past where I was changing Maia's onesie on the floor. "Chloë go shopping," she said brightly. "Chloë get ice cream, popsicle, banana." She showed me her bag, zippered shut.
"Ooh," I said. "Can I have one?" She said yes, so I said, "I'll have a popsicle. Mmm, chocolate." I gobbled it up. She took one too, though she wasn't as noisy about eating hers as I was about mine.
"Chloë go shopping again," she said. "Ice cream, popsicle, banana."
"Could you pick up some apples for me?" I said.
"Yes." She handed me what I think was an entire bag of apples. I took one and said, "Wow, this one's huge!" I took a bite. "Mmm, yummy."
She took one too. "Huge!" she said. "Mmmy." Then she decided she wanted another popsicle. Those bananas never did get touched. She did offer her upside-down hat to me, saying, "Pasta?"
"Thank you," I said, picking up a foam X from the floor and using it as a fork. "Ooh, delicious."
"Chloë get cheese," she decided.
"White cheese?" I said. "Swiss? Or cheddar, the yellow kind?"
"Yes." She thought. "Spicy cheese."
"Spicy cheese would be good," I agreed.
But she didn't go; she got interested in the pasta in her hat again. "Chloë need fork. Chloë need spoon." I suggested she look in the bin of toys. "Spoon?" she said, holding up a foam 1. I agreed this would do nicely, and she dug in.