My daughters don’t even know the word ‘say’.
It’s “She goes, ‘Where are you going?’, and I go ‘I’m going’”.
To me, it’s grating and sloppy. But I understand that language is a fluid thing, made up as we please. So rather than lecture like a schoolmarm, I claim the right to coin my own phrases. . . such as
"So I gacked, “Where are you going?” and she gacks, “Duh, where does it look like?’”
You can gack whatever you like about the phrase, but I gack it’s perfectly fine.
BTW: Back in high school, which was when you could still strike matches on the FRONT of the matchbook, my friends and I had a contest to see who could get a brand-new made-up word into general usage the fastest. I chose the word ‘foodle’, which I declared to mean ‘to feel up’. Another friend came up with ‘crunt’, defined as an unhygienic female. Our third friend, the two-digit SAT guy, came up with ‘stink rod’ which meant stool sample, math teacher, an Oldsmobile, or anything else you didn’t like. Within three days, ‘stink rod’ was lingua franca in my high school. Duh.
Some may think this story is made up, but I assure you, it’s apocryphal.