A French breakfast

Me: You’re in better spirits today. Is it because Dave woke you with a kiss?

Nell: Certainly not. David needs to stop fussing.

Me: We’ve all been so worried about you, Nell.

Nell: I’m absolutely fine.

Me: When Chloe found that lump during your physiotherapy I was distraught.

Nell: You weren’t the one stabbed with a needle.

Me: And then the relief that it was just a fatty lump.

Nell: Would you mind not discussing my medical history, please? I am trying to enjoy my croissant in peace.

Me: That’s a very fancy breakfast, Nell.

Nell: Yes. After I mentioned the French lunches I used to enjoy with Joan Collie and The Cat Poppy was inspired to rustle up a French breakfast.

Me: How lovely.

Nell: Malcolm made the croissants with a little help from Benjie.

Me: I’m glad he’s taken Benny under his wing.

Nell: Benjamin isn’t under anybody’s wing. He is his own bird now. And don’t call him Benjie.

Me: He likes it.

Nell: David asked for French toast but Poppy said French toast isn’t actually French and he should have a croissant and like it.

Me: What about French fries?

Nell: Not French either. David tried asking for those, but Poppy just glared at him.

Me: They make excellent fries in France.

Nell: That is not the point. You can’t have chips for breakfast, however thin they are.

Me: My poor Big Brave Beautiful Boy forced to eat fresh baked croissants and home made jam.

Nell: If only.

Me: Why?

Nell: You know how the French drink out of bowls?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Well, David ate a whole tureen of Bouillebaisse by mistake.

Me: That sounds French.

Nell: It’s seafood soup and was meant for the dolphins’ lunch. Poppy is not pleased.

Me: Oh dear. Sorry.

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