Guilty Faces

Me: Why are you lot hiding up here?

Nell: We’re not. We’re just enjoying Sunday Songs from your bedroom.

Me: Sunday Songs finished ages ago.

Nell: Did they? I must have nodded off.

Me: Dave looks particularly guilty.

Nell: Does he?

Me: And Harriet looks shifty.

Nell: I can’t think why.

Me: Poppy is the only one who doesn’t seem particularly bothered.

Nell: Poppy is naturally fearless.

Me: Ha! I knew you were up to something.

Nell: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Me: All that noise first thing this morning. Barking and running. And why do I keep finding pieces of dog towel everywhere?

Nell: If you must know we suddenly found ourselves taking part in a game of Dog of War.

Me: Do you mean tug of war?

Nell: No, although tugging was involved.

Me: I know. I found the dog towel in shreds.

Nell: It all got a little out of paw when Harriet seemed to be beating David. Poppy and I felt obliged to cheer her on.

Me: Did you have to choose Sunday morning for this? Kev and I have been ever so busy and were hoping for a lie in.

Nell: Dog of War can never be predicted. It just comes upon you. One is powerless to resist.

Me: What rubbish.

Nell: I’m sure a bacon sandwich and a cuddle with David will help.

Me: It might.

Nell: Poppy is preparing roast chicken for Sunday dinner with sausages, stuffing and lots of roasted vegetables.

Me: With cranberry sauce?

Nell: Yes, and lashings of her special gravy.

Me: I suppose that does make the day sound a little brighter. Did you just say lashings?

Nell: Yes. Why?

Me: You never say lashings. It’s not a Nell word.

Nell: It is now.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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