David Rossi loved his cars. Each one was special and deserved his love. He spent a lot of money buying and caring for his collection. His current favorite was his brand-new Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglia. He hadn't allowed his wife, Penelope or their daughter into the car.

"Why can't we take your car," Penelope asked one day when they were heading out to dinner.

"It's not a family car," he replied. "The Mercedes is a family car."

"David, you've had the car for three weeks and you haven't taken us for a ride in it," she pointed out.

"Honey, I love you very, very much but neither of you are riding in that car."

She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me."

"That car is too precious. I know that you would do nothing to hurt her, but our daughter… she doesn't know her own destructive powers yet."

She stares at him for several seconds. "You're serious?"

"Yes," he admits. "Cars need love and protection and that's what I am doing."

She laughs and shakes her head. "You're an idiot."

They took the Mercedes that night and Penelope didn't ask about riding in the Alfa Romeo again.

A few weeks later, Dave steps out of the garage; wash bucket and sponge in hand he prepares to give his new baby a bath. He walks around to the passenger side of the car and stops dead in his tracks. The entire passenger door of his car was covered in stickers. Not bumper stickers, but small, cute stickers. The kind a child would collect and stick to the refrigerator and books and such. There must have been hundreds of them.

"Hi daddy," a small voice said from his knee.

He looked down at the cherubic face of his daughter. "Sweetheart," he said tightly as he reigned in his temper. "Are these your stickers?"

She grinned widely. "Pwetty, daddy."

"Ah, honey," he started as he bent down next to her.

"David," Penelope called from the garage door. "Is Emma with you?"

"Yes," he answered shortly. "Did you know about this?"

"Know about what?" Penelope frowned and came around the front of the car. Her face changed from confusion to shock to mirth in a matter of seconds. "Oh. My. God."

"Yeah," Dave growled. He glared at her.

"Now David," Penelope said trying to control her amusement. "She's not quite four."

"I know how old she is," he growled. He masked his anger and looked back at his daughter. "Emma? Did you put these stickers on daddy's car?"

Emma continued to smile and nodded. "I made pwetty."

"Honey," Dave began, he struggled to remain calm. "We don't put stickers on daddy's car."

"I love stwickers," she replied.

"I know you do, Honey…" he agreed. "And Daddy loves his car…"

"Cars need wuv," Emma beamed. She toddled to the door, leaned over and kissed one of the stickers. "I wuv stwickers."

Penelope snorted a short burst of laughter. Dave peered up at her. "I think she's trying to say that she loves you."

Emma stepped closer and attempted to hug the car leaving hand and face prints on the surface. Dave lowered his head in his hands.

"Why couldn't she have done this to the Mercedes," he asked.

"What are you going to do," Penelope asked softly.

He raised his head and watched as his blond-haired, brown-eyed devil child kissed every sticker on the car.

He turned his head to look up at his wife. "Want to go for a ride?"