The Mondays is

Me: The puppies are looking awfully worried.

Nell: They are not puppies. They will be 4 in June.

Me: They are always going to be puppies to me. What have they done?

Nell: They had a second breakfast.

Me: Lots of people do that. Sometimes fruit, or cereal, simply isn’t enough. You need something more substantial to get you through the day. Especially on a gloomy Monday.

Nell: Fruit, or cereal? They had bacon sandwiches.

Me: Were the bacon sandwiches their first, or second breakfast?

Nell: That is not the point.

Me: It is though, Nell. Sometimes you need something sweet to end off a meal.

Nell: It was definitely sweet.

Me: What was it?

Nell: A Victoria sponge. Freshly baked. Dusted with icing sugar and filled with jam. Waiting to be served for afternoon tea.

Me: Oh dear. It was probably a mistake.

Nell: They licked the plate. I’ve grown to expect this from David, but Harriet?

Me: How do you know it was them? It could have been anyone.

Nell: They had icing sugar all around their mouths and crumbs in their hair.

Me: I’m sure there was a very good reason. Have you asked them?

Nell: Of course I have.

Me: What did they say?

Nell: They said, and I quote, ‘It was the only way to ward off a terrible attack of the Mondays.’

Me: Well, there you are. That sounds like a perfectly reasonable excuse to me.

Nell: What do you mean ‘There you are’?

Me: The Mondays is a dreadful thing to have. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Nell: You told them to say that, didn’t you?

Me: Who? Me?

Nell: The minute I heard them say it, I knew it sounded like something you would say.

Me: They needed my help. Sorry.

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