Who would think to look in the dresser?

Last week, Cameron came to the breakfast table wearing no shirt and a red, faux-fur trimmed cape.  "Well, what an honor to have you join us, Your Royal Highness," I quipped.  "We don't often have kings partake of our oatmeal!"

Cameron gave me a derisive glare.  "I'm not a king."

"Oh, well, my mistake.  Who are you then?"

"I'm just a cold boy," he answered, "who couldn't find a t-shirt."