This morning:
Grace: “I know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a docinarian” (this is a hybrid doctor-veterinarian, for those of you who don’t know)
Whit: “I want to be a bad guy.”
Grace: “Whit, no! Be a good guy.”
Whit: “A fireman?”
Grace: “OK, good, we’ll both be firemen.”
Whit: “I don’t have a hose.”