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.
