Child came in to ask me if he can stay up an hour late since he was such a good boy today, yadda yadda yadda. In between his pleading and my rote "No, go to bed, no, go to bed" child casually stepped into a pair of black leather flats I had in the floor, straps dangling around his instep as he continued his argument, pacing to and fro before my bed in pretty black shoes while wearing nothing but his bedtime boxers and a t-shirt and his hair still wet from the shower.
They fit him really well.
He got thirty minutes. He wandered out of my room, pleased and wearing my shoes. That's actually worth an hour after bedtime, tbh.