So as we were walking out of the building I asked G what kind of day she had. I already read her "she had a good day" report.
Me: "So baby, what kind of day did you have?"
G: "A bad day."
Me: "Really, why?"
G: "Well, I hit myself.. I bit myself."
Me: "You bit yourself? Where?"
G: holding up her pointer finger, "wight here-ur."
Me: "Wow you bit your finger?"
G: "Yes, I bit my fingur off, but I gwooed it back togeddur."
Me: "Well, it is a good thing you know how to use glue."
G: "Yeah, it is. Can I paint?" (meaning-when we get home can I paint pictures?)