Me: What’s the matter with you and Dave? Monday morning blues?
Nell: We’re most unhappy.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: With you.
Me: Me?
Nell: Yes.
Me: What have I done?
Nell: You have shown blatant favouritism towards certain members of the family.
Me: I have?
Nell: Yes.
Me: Did I give someone too many biscuits?
Nell: This is not about biscuits. This is about beds.
Me: Oh, I see.
Nell: Harriet and Poppy slept in your room last night.
Me: Poppy always sleeps in our room. On our bed, actually.
Nell: And Harriet?
Me: Well, Kev thought the barking might have been because she’s lonely so he suggested we allow her to sleep in the dog bed in our room.
Nell: I sleep in that dog bed.
Me: Yes, you do when I’m away.
Nell: Why would Harriet be lonely? She has me and David.
Me: Well, it worked. There was no barking.
Nell: How do you know David and I weren’t lonely? Maybe we were silently barking all night.
Me: Don’t say that. Anyway, it was Kev’s idea so don’t go blaming me.
Nell: As long as it doesn’t become a habit. Now, Poppy wants all paws on deck this morning as she’s planning the return dinner and isn’t sure what gangsters eat. David suggested lasagne.
Me: The Mafia eat pasta but Babycakes Gillespie doesn’t sound Italian.
Nell: Have you spoken to him?
Me: No. I meant his name. It sounds Irish to me. Maybe Irish stew and colcannon?
Nell: Is cabbage right for a dinner party?
Me: Maybe not.
Nell: I’ll give Bonio a call. He’ll know.
Me: Do you mean Bono?
Nell: No. Bonio. He’s an Irish Wolfhound. Wears dark glasses and sings with a band called ChewThrough. You might have heard of them.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
