A sticky Situation

Me: Dave must be in Poppy’s good books.

Nell: Why?

Me: She’s been kissing him all morning.

Nell: It’s maple syrup.

Me: What?

Nell: David was learning how to make pancakes and there was an unfortunate incident with some maple syrup.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Poppy is just cleaning him up.

Me: Was there much spillage?

Nell: David moved swiftly but things were a little sticky for a while.

Me: I bet they were.

Nell: Henry and Horst were involved.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: Fortunately Poppy realised they were woodlice not toast crumbs before Manuel moved in.

Me: Toast crumbs?

Nell: It’s an easy mistake to make. The times those two boys have been swept off the table.

Me: What a dangerous life they lead.

Nell: They shouldn’t be on the table, of course, but they can’t hear otherwise.

Me: Just imagine.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: There you are going about your life as normal when an octopus sweeps you off the table and throws you in the compost.

Nell: This is not something you, or I, need to worry about. Nobody is going to mistake us for a toast crumb and Manuel can’t sweep us anywhere.

Me: Facing constant attack. Living life on the edge.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Such brave little things.

Nell: Anyway, I expect David is still a little sticky.

Me: But he’s on the bed.

Nell: An animal has to rest, you know. Especially after an incident like that. It’s a shock to the system.

Me: I suppose it is.

Nell: Henry and Horst are David’s friends. He could have lost them.

Me: I know.

Nell: Well then. Stop fussing and allow him some time to recover. A little syrup on the bedcover won’t hurt you. You’re not a woodlouse.

Me: You’re right. Sorry.

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