A few days ago, my three-year-old daughter happened to glimpse a picture of a glowing young woman in blue gown and long white gloves. It was Cinderella, all dressed up for the ball. And though my daughter didn’t know the woman’s name—has never read the story or seen the Disney movie—she pointed and pleaded, “Can I dress up like her?” What silliness, I thought, as we left home for the playground. But not before I grabbed my mesh back hat, making sure its bill was still bent just as retired tennis star Andy Roddick would don it.

Do we ever get over this stuff?