Let the wild rumpus begin

So Baby Savannah is having a great time with the whole "having grandparents in town" gig. She already knows that Grandma and Papa = Krispy Kreme and Soda. Today my mom and dad and I took her to Burger Supreme for lunch, where she drank 1) Mom's Diet Coke, 2) my root beer, and 3) her ketchup. We went for lunch because Savvymom and Savvydad were taking the new baby to have his little, ahem, procedure. I'll leave Savvymom to tell that story, though.

This morning she presented my dad with Where the Wild Things Are and made the noises that mean "read this to me right now and nobody gets hurt."

Dad: "Okay sweetie, let's read the book. I don't have my reading glasses, though . . . "

So because he couldn't see the words he just made stuff up.

Dad: "And this boy has a crown or something on his head . . . "

After a few minutes I heard . . .

Dad: "Wait, what kind of oddball animals are these? What book is this??"

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