“It’s whom. ‘Report to whom?’ Not who.” It took Dee-Ann a few seconds to realize her six-year-old was correcting her grammar. She handled that with a smirk and a sharp, “Shut up.” “Dee!” Ric chastised, shocked. Malone, however, burst out laughing, unable to hold it in anymore. And Crushek just ate his cake. “It’s all right, Daddy,” Lizzy replied, pushing a plate toward her father. “She just knows I’m right.” Dee-Ann reached over and took the plate of cake Lizzy had cut for her father, knowing full well it would annoy the hell out of her. “I still say we drop her off at the pound,” Dee-Ann told
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