Dishabille

When my youngest daughter asks me questions, I try to answer them as best I can. Not that she's asking me meaning-of-life, does God exist stuff yet, but I hate to say, "I don't know" to her. So, if she sees someone walking down the street and asks who they are, I just start making it all up. By the time we're through, this person, whom we've never laid eyes on in our life, has a new name, job, hobby-we even talk about the pets they have.
What I'm trying to say here, is that when she comes up with something, I like to just go with it. On Saturdays she dresses herself. I think she does ok, she seems to know more about girl clothes than I do. A blue jean skirt and a floral dress? Fine. I mean, for me she's either dressed or she's not dressed, and as soon as she's dressed, we can go out the door. What is irritating though is when my wife's out of town and I drop her off at the daycare the women will say things like, "Did Daddy dress you today?" and I just smile like I don't understand English.
I thought about all this today sitting at a stoplight in my white sedan. Me sitting there with a cordory jacket and houndstooth fedora, her with a towel she had found in the backseat over her head. I looked like I was driving around a Persian princess; or one of those kids that are allergic to the sun.
I really was about to tell her to take that towel off her head, but the light turned green.