Me: What a beautiful day.
Nell: Yes. Harriet was so happy to be back on the beach again.
Me: Her back leg seems fine but we will know more later when we see Tom the vet.
Nell: It has certainly lifted her spirits. She was dancing round the kitchen with Malcolm just now.
Me: I think Malcolm might have a bit of a thing for Harriet.
Me: He blushes when he sees her.
Nell: Malcolm is a flamingo. He blushes when he sees anyone. He is one big blush.
Me: Oh yes.
Nell: Harriet has a number of admirers. AJ, the gardening Afghan, wrote her a poem.
Me: Did he?
Nell: It wasn’t very good. She showed it to me.
Me: What did it say?
Nell: ” Oh Harriet, my lovely, with your conker brown coat.
You sing like an angel
You spring like a goat.”
Me: She is very light-footed.
Nell: I haven’t finished.
“You smell like a rose,
You buzz like a bee.
Oh conker brown Harriet,
I wish you loved me.”
Me: Sweet. Unrequited love.
Nell: Yes. On second thoughts you might be right about Malcolm. We need to find him a nice lady bird.
Me: A ladybird wouldn’t be right for him, Nell. They are far too small and they bite.
Nell: No. A female bird. Preferably a flamingo. I might get Gladys to ask Count Bingo. She is seeing him later.
Me: For dinner?
Nell: No, they are going surfing. He’s a natural, apparently.
Me: I still think I might give it a go.
Nell: Stop right now. Some of us are simply not meant to surf. Let’s embrace our individuality.
Me: Yes. Sorry.