“I think she’s a princess, daddy.”
“You mean this?”
“No, I meant her.”
“I don’t think she heard you, sweetie.”
Realizing I am the topic of the conversation, I stop and turn my head to smile at the girl, which causes her to blush and grin back sheepishly. Her father nods at me and breaks out into a wide smile at all of this, before taking his small daughter, with her messy mop of blonde hair and red frock with matching mary janes, by the hand, past the Guanyin statues and off into the pottery section.