A light breakfast

Me: What’s the matter with my Big Brave Beautiful Boy? Has his ball rolled under the chest of drawers again?

Nell: He had a light breakfast.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: No bacon. Just toast and scrambled eggs.

Me: Sounds lovely to me.

Nell: Well, that’s not something I see every day.

Me: What? Scrambled eggs?

Nell: No. A whippet in wellington boots.

Me: The grass is a bit damp in the mornings so it’s probably wise.

Nell: Whippets don’t like wellingtons.

Me: Why?

Nell: They have delicate feet. They prefer a more fitted boot.

Me: Maybe it’s wearing two pairs of socks.

Nell: Possibly. It’s carrying a cake tin.

Me: Is it coming here?

Nell: No. It’s going towards the Big House. The Cat is probably having one of its Bridge mornings.

Me: I’m surprised you aren’t going. You enjoy a game of Bridge.

Nell: Yes. My Bridge partner Dorothy is an excellent player but unfortunately she is away visiting family.

Me: Is that Dorothy the Salcombe Setter?

Nell: Yes. Beautiful red hair.

Me: You could always take Dave with you.

Nell: David doesn’t play Bridge. He finds it hard to concentrate without eating.

Me: Kev likes card games.

Nell: He’s a cribbage man. You know that.

Me: Well, Poppy then?

Nell: Poppy only plays for money. Usually poker. But since we lost Mutley she hasn’t really bothered. If I was taking anyone, it would be Harriet.

Me: I used to play a long time ago when I lived in Africa.

Nell: Exactly.

Me: What does that mean?

Nell: It’s been over 20 years since you last played.

Me: Gosh. That’s actually rather shocking.

Nell: I know.

Me: I’m getting old, Nell.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: Time is passing me by.

Nell: Have you quite finished?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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