Twice. Ray will now bring you her shoes if you ask her nicely.

“Will you bring me your shoes? We’re going to go outside.”

“Eeee!” She runs squealing around the room, leaps on the couch, and hides.

“Shoe? Can you bring me your shoe?”

“Oh, no!” She looks around, crawls off the couch, looks around some more.

“It’s over there. Your shoes.”

“Shoe!” She spots her shoes, grabs one, and runs around in circles, dancing.

“Can you bring me your shoes? We’re going to go outside.”

“Shoe? Shoe? Shoooooooooooooooooe!”

She brings me her shoe.

“Thank you,” I say. “Where’s the other shoe? We need two shoes.”

She claps her hands together and runs around screaming.

“Where’s your shoe?” I point. “Bring me your shoe!”

“Shoe! Shh! Shh!” She picks up the shoe, leaps on the couch again, and hides the shoe under the cushions.

“Where’s your shoe? Let’s go outside!”

“Shoe!” She pulls back the pillow to reveal the shoe, then throws it on the floor. After a little shoe-dance, she picks it up and brings it to me. She looks at the other shoe. “Shoe!” she says, and sits in my lap so I can put them on.