Thank goodness David likes hats

Me: Well, I think you all look wonderful. Thank you for showing me your hats.

Nell: We were supposed to be wearing fruit.

Me: Like Carmen Miranda?

Nell: Carmen Miranda is a curly haired collie from Coventry. What’s she got to do with it?

Me: Never mind. What happened to the fruit?

Nell: David ate it. The Cat was remarkably calm considering and told him to fetch his dressing up box.

Me: Lucky that Dave likes hats.

Nell: Yes. Fortunately the weather held. Count Bingo and his flamingos were a huge hit. Everyone loves a steel drum.

Me: Yes.

Nell: People were dancing the samba in the streets. Quite extraordinary.

Me: Wonderful.

Nell: There was a tense moment when a Beefie tried to get into the cafe disguised as a flamingo.

Me: No?

Nell: As if wearing a pink feather boa was going to convince anyone. I mean the length of its leg was a giveaway, and those mean seagull eyes.

Me: The cheek of it.

Nell: It was after one of Poppy’s scones, of course. Malcolm told it to leave.

Me: Malcolm did?

Nell: Yes. He took off his apron and feathered hat, marched over to the Beefie and said: “You sir, are not a flamingo. Take your beak out of the cream and leave.”

Me: Gosh.

Nell: Everyone clapped. Malcolm bowed and went back to making egg sandwiches.

Me: Did the food go down well?

Nell: Very well. Lessons were learned of course.

Me: In what way?

Nell: Tap dancing needs to be confined. One of the dancing chihuahuas got involved with a bowl of strawberry jam at one point. Fortunately a Dartmouth dachshund was on hand to clean it up.

Me: It sounds like a great success. I wish I could have been there.

Nell: You are always with us you know.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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