something joe’s

Payday = Trader Joe’s run.
The Little Guy and I picked up Miss Baby at day care and headed north. We told her we were going to Trader Joe’s, which she associated with Monkey Joe’s. That set her off: “Miss Baby go to Ponies Joe’s. Little Guy go to Train Joe’s. Mommy go to Trader Joe’s.” We asked about Daddy, who was at home working, and she said, “Daddy be right back.” Very cute. But she kept talking about “Ponies Joe’s” for the next hour, which became wearying. When we stopped for dinner at Waffle House, she burst into tears because it wasn’t Ponies Joe’s. (How on earth I was supposed to find Ponies Joe’s, I don’t know).
After some chocolate milk and bacon and eggs, she didn’t want to leave the restaurant, and had to hauled off. However, she recognized Trader Joe’s as “red carts” and eagerly pushed her little grocery cart through the store, getting two of everything and putting one item in her basket and one in the Little Guy’s. When we were almost done, I realized we had no rice, and we went back to look for it. We found it on a shelf on Miss Baby’s eye level, and she happily loaded up.
As we left, I complimented both of them, in very specific terms, on their helpful behavoir in the grocery store. Miss Baby was clearly pleased with herself, and added, “And Miss Baby found the rice.”
On the way home, she was very silly, calling horses “cows.” Then we passed a field with several trees, and she said, “Look, Mommy, cows!” I told her they were trees, and she laughed and called them cows again. We went back and forth like this for some time. She has a very eccentric sense of humor.
So: a mostly good trip, with some troubles caused by the absence of “Ponies Joe’s,” but exhausting overall. However, now I have wine.