Rory knew he could argue, but he knew it'd be pointless. "Fine. But I'm getting at least a loincloth." His daughter was in the room, for God's sake.
Grabbing Amy by the hand, he headed off to be painted blue. After all, if he was going to dress up like a Celtic warrior, it was going to be done by his wife.
Heading back into the room looking like a murderous Smurf, complete with longspear, he nodded at the door. "Right then. Let's get this over with."