No Croutons

Me: Why is Kev in the living room comforting the puppies?

Nell: Poppy is making vegetable soup for lunch with no croutons.

Me: We don’t have to have croutons.

Nell: The puppies do. They are their favourite part.

Me: I know croutons are exciting but soup can still be delicious without them.

Nell: Croutons aren’t exciting.

Me: They sort of are, Nell. The way they are crunchy at first and then wonderfully gloopy when soaked in soup.

Nell: I worry about you sometimes. Gloopy is not a word.

Me: Why aren’t there any croutons?

Nell: Someone ate the bread. Poppy is having to make a whole new batch and she is not amused.

Me: You know what would go well in the soup?

Nell: No, but I’m sure you are going to tell me.

Me: Crunchy bits of bacon.

Nell: We’ve run out of bacon too.

Me: No wonder Dave needs comforting.

Nell: David needs comforting because he has a sore tummy.

Me: Oh dear. I expect he ate something by mistake.

Nell: Exactly. Now, I’m expecting the Daily Growl at any moment so if a Jack Russell wearing a narrow brimmed hat appears at the door send it straight through to me.

Me: You don’t know it will be a Jack Russell.

Nell: It always is.

Me: It was an Irish Wolfhound one time.

Nell: That was the photographer.

Me: Oh yes.

Nell: I need to make sure the public have all the facts before next weekend’s Halloween special. I don’t want that lion influencing the public vote.

Me: It’s going to be a spooktacular event.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: Come on. Join in. Knock, knock.

Nell: Who’s there?

Me: Boo.

Nell: Boo who?

Me: Don’t cry, Nell. It’s only a few croutons.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Sorry.

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