No photos please, it’s Sunday

Me: Why are you looking at me like that?

Nell: It’s Sunday morning.

Me: I know.

Nell: People are trying to sleep.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Nobody wants their photo taken.

Me: I’ve been away, Nell. So I was trying to catch up with you all.

Nell: You were intrusive. You are behaving like the puparazzi.

Me: You mean the paparazzi.

Nell: I most certainly do not. Those young pups with their cameras have no respect. Strangely enough they are usually Italian and mostly Volpinos.

Me: I’m not Italian and I don’t even know what a Volpino is.

Nell: Think Gladys. Lots of fur and even more attitude.

Me: I’ve never seen one.

Nell: Of course you haven’t. They creep up on you unawares just like you this morning. Suddenly you are front page news with your hair in curlers wearing your oldest collar.

Me: I only wanted a few photos.

Nell: By the way, David wants to be a footballer again.

Me: Why?

Nell: He was watching the Women’s World Cup with Shannon and Chris last night and is all fired up.

Me: He did join the team in Russia last year.

Nell: I know. I’ve promised to call Gareth but it’s a passing phase. When Wimbledon starts he’ll be out there with his tennis racquet again.

Me: I used to play tennis.

Nell: If you are going to start talking about your school team again then I am going to have to stop you right there.

Me: Why?

Nell: It’s over 40 years ago. Let it go.

Me: We nearly had to play Sue Barker. She went to a school nearby but the match was cancelled.

Nell: It wouldn’t have ended well. Now, may I suggest a quiet breakfast? People are still having a lie-in. And no more photos.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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