The Day My Daughter Traded Me For A Puppy

Aaron made an announcement too.  “I got wee wee!”  Despite what it sounds like, he’s talking about the fact that he’s got a little piggy that goes “wee wee wee” all the way home.

While the four of us were enjoying lunch, my daughter, who’s famously afraid of strange dogs, made an announcement.

“When I get bigger, I’m going to have a dog!”

That delighted us no end.  Maddie’s apparently made a conscious decision to get over her fear.  So we ask her more about it.

“When I turn six, and Daddy dies, I’m going to get a dog,” she exclaims happily and with pride.

Wh, What?

“Mommy can get a dog for me.”

So, I explain to the little dear that I don’t have to die for her to get a puppy.  And she explains to me that, well, that’s the way it’s going to go down.  She points to me, “Daddy dies.”  She points to her mother, “Mommy gets me a doggy.”  As if she knows something I don’t.

She better not.