Me: Morning Thoughts are late today. Is it because the clocks have gone forward?
Nell: No. This has nothing to do with clocks and it is not Morning Thoughts.
Me: It looks rather serious.
Nell: It is. Somebody has eaten the oven gloves.
Me: Oh dear. You don’t think they could have just worn out over time?
Nell: There are signs of biting and tearing.
Me: Has anyone confessed yet?
Nell: Harriet is refusing to answer and David has put his head under the table.
Me: Maybe he is just tired.
Nell: He is hiding behind Kev’s legs.
Me: My darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: Normally I would blame Harriet as she is a serial chewer but in this case I am afraid evidence is pointing towards David.
Me: Why?
Nell: Poppy admitted that during the cooking of yesterday’s roast beef she may have inadvertently got beef juices on the oven gloves.
Me: Dave loves roast beef. It is right up there with bacon.
Nell: Yes, it is. Now, I am willing to accept that this may have started out as vigorous licking but it definitely proceeded to chewing.
Me: What are you going to do?
Nell: I’m afraid neither of the puppies will be having roast beef sandwiches for lunch.
Me: Oh no. You called them puppies, by the way.
Nell: A brief lapse. Where was I?
Me: No roast beef sandwiches.
Nell: Yes. Just plain cheese and no pickle.
Me: They don’t like pickle.
Nell: That’s not the point.
Me: What if one of them confesses?
Nell: Then the other one can have roast beef.
Me: Look, they are calling you. What did they say? Have they both confessed to save the other? Bless them.
Nell: No. They said it was The Cat.
Me: Oh dear. Sorry.
