The Hidden Shoes

Troy stole my wife's shoes today, and we were looking for them everywhere.  We checked under furniture, in cabinets, on top of the desk, in the shower, in the closet, in the plants, behind the TV...and nothing.  Finally, my wife asked him, "Where are mama's shoes?"  To which Troy said nothing, walked into the bedroom, lifted the lid to the hamper, and then walked away.  Recognizing this as his usual avoidance behavior, where he pretends to not hear the question by avoiding being in the same room as us; we kept searching.  Getting more and more frustrated, my wife asked him again, "Where are mama's shoes?"  Again, Troy walked to his hamper, lifted the lid, and then walked away.  

Continued searching...more frustration...and another appeal later.  Troy for a third time walked to the hamper and lifted and closed the lid; but this time, he just stood there looking at us.  Suddenly, a strange thought hit my wife...could he actually understand exactly what we're asking him?  So, she decided to look in the hamper, and sure enough, we found the shoes.  Of course, we were conflicted with feeling incredibly stupid and incredibly proud.  We had to whoop and tell him "Bravo!" for understanding us, even when we didn't understand him.  Then, he stood there with a smug expression on his face, feeling happy and proud of himself.  I'm not sure if it was for duping us or telling us on the first try where exactly he had hid the shoes.  Maybe a little of both.