Mid-afternoon, Anya raced up to me and asked anxiously, "When are we going home?" I thought, "Oh dear, is she having a bad day?" (She'd just had a long play with Rebecca from next door, who is completely her match in bossiness.) I said calmly, "In about a week -- why?"
She hopped in place and answered, "I have this money, and I need to put it in my money box!"