Last night C picked out some clothes to wear: a red gingham blouse with Winnie the Pooh on it, and a lavender polka-dot pair of leggings. They looked about as good as they sound.
This morning, she became angry with me (I asked her not to spray detangler in the living room), so she marched up to her room. In a colossal shift of cosmic justice, she changed her pants and JUST HAPPENED to put on the denim skirt that matches the shirt.
Now she's very angry and color-coordinated, too!