Nell: You are awfully chirpy for a Monday morning. Stop dancing around.
Me: Today is the day, Nell. I’m so excited.
Nell: That the pubs reopen? I wouldn’t have thought you would be excited about that. It’s more Kev’s thing. They are going to be dreadfully busy, you know.
Me: No. The hairdressers.
Nell: Oh, I see.
Me: I’m finally going to get rid of these long grey locks.
Nell: Some of us are embracing our grey.
Me: If I had lovely grey like you I would embrace it too. But my hair isn’t quite ready yet.
Nell: Isn’t it?
Me: No. It’s going to be so wonderful to feel like myself again.
Nell: I’m sure it is.
Me: Poppy would understand and Alejandro. They know the relief of a good clipping.
Nell: Well, don’t take it too far, please.
Me: Thinking about it, I am actually rather lucky my hair wasn’t taken and stuffed into dog beds.
Nell: There’s no answer to that.
Me: It could have happened.
Nell: Don’t go saying anything like that at the hairdressers, please.
Me: Why not?
Nell: Let’s just say they will definitely question your sanity.
Me: Has the random clipping stopped since Squawk’s arrest?
Nell: Yes. The Beefies are lying low.
Me: No, they aren’t. A whole group of them flew by just now honking.
Nell: Are you sure they weren’t geese?
Me: You might be right. I wondered how they got such long necks.
Nell: The sooner your hair is cut the better.
Me: Why? Do you think my hair affects my imagination? What an interesting idea. Maybe I’ll become more sensible with short hair.
Nell: I seriously doubt it. I meant you can’t see anything properly through that long fringe. Good grief.
Me; Oh yes. Sorry.