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.

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