Me: Seaweed is an odd thing, isn’t it?
Nell: Here we go.
Me: Sometimes it’s there and sometimes it isn’t.
Nell: Good grief. That’s not up to the seaweed. It’s the sea’s decision.
Me: It must be quite hard being a seaweed. You never know where you’ll land next.
Nell: If you are going to suggest that we take some seaweed home then the answer is no.
Me: Harriet would love it.
Nell: We have quite enough to deal with, thank you, without you filling the house with marine plants.
Me: Just saying.
Nell: Well, don’t.
Me: Are you still feeling sprightly after your injection? I was telling Chloe all about you on the phone yesterday.
Nell: Sprightly? I’m not an elderly whippet. Why were you talking to Chloe?
Me: We were arranging your next hydrotherapy.
Nell: Oh. Yes, I am feeling a lot better than I have done for quite some time.
Me: Well, that’s my Christmas present sorted.
Nell: What do you mean?
Me: You feeling better and not in so much pain.
Nell: Yes, I understand. Nobody likes to see a loved one suffering.
Me: We love each other very much, don’t we?
Nell: We do.
Me: Maybe I could just put a little seaweed in Princess’s pool?
Nell: Stop. It’s not happening. There’s hardly any room in there anyway, since Arctic Bob came to stay.
Me: I thought he was more of a travelling walrus.
Nell: He is but he’s taken a shine to Princess. He enjoys her positivity, according to Our Penguin.
Me: Dave and the Llamas are positive animals too. That sounds like a band, doesn’t it?
Nell: Don’t go giving them ideas. Have you ever heard a llama sing?
Me: No, they usually dance.
Nell: There’s a reason for that.
Me: Oh. Sorry.
