I Like Your Shirt, Moma

Lately, when Miss Maddy gets in trouble, the conversations have gone like this:
Me: Maddy Dear, please put on your shoes.
No response.
Me: Maddy, put on your shoes.
No response.
Me: Maddy, shoes please.
No response.
Me: MADELYN, put on your shoes right this minute!
Still, no response, so enter Mean Moma.
Mean Moma (in her best Mean Moma voice): I have asked you five times to put on your shoes. If you don't get them on this instant, then (. . . . yadda, yadda, yadda -- insert a dire consequence).
Madelyn: I like your shirt, Moma.

What? I was completely puzzled the first time she did it. Dumbfounded.

This has happened several times since. Tonight I got on her case for not listening as we were working together in the kitchen, and she actually said to me: "I like your pajama pants Moma. Are you still upset with me? I really like your socks."

How does that little mind of yours work, Maddy Girl? Did I teach you that a complement is the cure to conflict? Better yet, how am I supposed to explain this little problem to your little 4-year-old self in a way that you'll understand? Maybe we'll just keep things "as is" for now.