We went clothes shopping for Chloë tonight, because she is simply enormous and, shockingly, last winter's clothes don't fit her and it's getting cold for short-sleeved shirts. We found a couple of leggings at Babies R Us (where we had to go for a diaper pail because ours finally gave up), but 5T is the highest they go and there isn't much, and that's what she's now in. So we made our way to Kohl's and bought five shirts and three pants, and a hooded vest because she loved it and was too stinking cute in it for me to refuse when she asked to take it home*, and some Dora the Explorer pajamas for Maia because "Dowa!"
It was dark when we left, and while we were still in the parking lot Chloë said, "My eyes hurt."
"That's because of the bright lights in the dark," I said, because it doesn't help to bring up how she's woken up at six the past couple of days and not napped enough and is probably tired. "That's not why--it's not because I'm tired," she always insists, after a bout of fingernail-on-chalkboard whininess.
We drove along. "No more stops, Mama," Chloë said, as if warning me.
"Right!" I said. "We're going straight home."
"Well, except for stop lights and things."
"Okay, yes, we'll probably stop at lights and stop signs," I conceded.
"But not green ones."
I ground my teeth and cursed Eric's genes and agreed. Before long Chloë said, "Maia?" Maia didn't answer. "Maia? Maia? Maia. Maia. Maia. Maia. Maia." At a stoplight (red) I glanced back. Maia was hugging Friendly Bear, contentedly ignoring her sister. "Maia, do your eyes hurt?" Chloë said finally.
"Yah," Maia said.
"That's because of the bright lights. In the dark."
*Also because she first got interested in the vests via a sequined magenta monstrosity and I was so relieved when she didn't like that one best.