The other night I was having dinner with my friend Gina. As I'm relaying my daughters latest happenings, she tells me I should write a book about this crap. She said instead of Crap My Dad Says, I should call it Crap my Daughter Says. So here it is.. kind of. A blog about the things my daughter says that keeps my life, hmmm, interesting.
This morning B (my husband) informed P (my daughter) that Frasier AKA Wondermutt (the family dog) has an appointment at the vet and asks her if she'd like to go. Excitedly, she asks, " Are they doing the chopping of his nuts today?".
Me, "No, not today."
P, " Nah! I'm going to wait til I can see some action!", while dropping her arm like an ax to a chicken neck laid across a log.
Great. She wants to see him lose his nuts.
