Me: Is everything ready for the Kevstival?
Nell: David and Kev are still lying in. They were up until late watching The Repair Shop and eating bacon sandwiches.
Me: It’s Kev’s birthday, Nell, so I’m afraid he can do no wrong.
Nell: Well, David can and he’s needed in the marquee. One of the larger animals has managed to get itself stuck in the guy ropes and needs coaxing out.
Me: And you think Dave can help?
Nell: David is extremely good with the larger animals, being on the bigger side himself, and having Winning Ways.
Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: Now, I’ve written a poem for Kev which I will be performing on the pyramid stage later.
Me: We have a pyramid stage?
Nell: It’s just a pointy tent but Gladys thinks it sounds grander. Anyway, would you like to hear it?
Me: Very much.
Nell: ‘Put on your hats and all shout ‘Hurrah!’
Because dear darling Kev is 62 today.‘
‘62? How can that be?
He doesn’t look older than 33.’
Me: Well, that’s nonsense, Nell. Chris is 33 and he’s our son.
Nell: It’s poetic licence. Stop interrupting. May I continue?
Me: Yes, of course.
Nell: ‘Animals are gathering from wide and far.
Some in a minibus.
Some in a car.
Many have navigated across the wild seas.
While others have drifted along on the breeze.’
Me: Are we talking about birds here?
Nell: And butterflies, or other insects.
Me: But not Beefies?
Nell: Certainly not. Beefies aren’t invited. Where was I?
‘All of us coming together to say
We love you dear Kev.
Have a Happy Birthday.’
Me: That’s perfect, Nell. It’s going to be a good day, isn’t it?
Nell: How could it be anything else?
Me: Yes. Sorry.