Me: What is the matter with you all? Lying around with no hard hats on.
Nell: Roofing fatigue.
Me: What on earth is that?
Nell: We can’t take it anymore. Even Mutley has succumbed.
Me: It’s not for ever, Nell. It’s just a few more weeks.
Nell: The constant banging and the darkness. All the windows have been covered upstairs.
Me: Yes, it’s a little depressing.
Nell: And Commercial radio.
Me: Commercial radio?
Nell: I can’t stand the advertising and the jingles. Why can’t they listen to BBC Radio Devon?
Me: It’s not something we can decide.
Nell: Well, The Cat is working on sequinned ear defenders for everyone.
Me: I’m not sure Mutley needs them. His deafness must be coming in quite handy.
Nell: It’s the vibrations that get to him. The whole house shudders. He dropped his shortbread in his tea yesterday.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: You know they sing, don’t you?
Me: The roofers?
Nell: Yes. Really badly. Who wants to listen to ‘I’ve Had the Time of My Life’ sung in falsetto at 8am in the morning?
Me: Gladys?
Nell: True. She was trying to get David to join in the dance but he has completely lost his oomph and says he wouldn’t catch her let alone raise her into the air.
Me: Now that is worrying. Nobody wants Dave to lose his oomph.
Nell: I agree. It’s an essential part of him.
Me: What can we do?
Nell: Distraction is the only answer so I’m taking bets on the arrival of your granddaughter Baby Snail. Due date is 28th May.
Me: I’m betting on 23rd May. Do we win a prize?
Nell: Baby Snail is the prize. What kind of grandmother are you?
Me: Yes. Sorry.
