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.”