Pickled pig's feet

Last Sunday, Chris came home announcing to the world that he was going to bed and really didn't want to be woke up. Abbey followed him into the bedroom and watched as he sat down at the computer. I believe he was going to do a quick e-mail check before he "checked-out". Abbey, leaning over the arm of the chair, got a little too involved. "What are you doing?"
Nothing from Chris, he is focused.
"Hey, what are you looking at?"
From a distracted dad, "Pickled pig's feet".
Abbey: "Well, pickled pig's feet, I thought you were going to bed."

I'm telling you, she gets that sassiness from her Baba.