Her name is not Christine

Me: Why is Harriet giving me that look?

Nell: You called her Christine this morning.

Me: Yes, I’m not sure why I did that.

Nell: Her name is not Christine.

Me: I know it isn’t.

Nell: Even her second name isn’t Christine.

Me: I think it’s because I’ve got my Wednesday Writers workshop this morning and one of the writers is called Christine.

Nell: I worry about you sometimes. I really do.

Me: She’s actually a poet too.

Nell: Harriet has never written a poem in her life. I’m the poet. Are you going to start calling me Christine now?

Me: No. I’m talking about my writer friend Christine. She’s a writer and a poet.

Nell: You’ve been talking about your friend Christine far too much this morning already if you ask me.

Me: I know I have. Is Harriet really upset about me calling her Christine?

Nell: Not anymore. David gave her one of his morning pancakes with maple syrup and a cuddle.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. So kind and loving. He wouldn’t care at all if I called him Christine.

Nell: Well, don’t do it, please.

Me: Now, I’m afraid I might. You know when you’re not supposed to say something and then you try so hard not to say it that you do.

Nell: That’s never happened to me.

Me: Like when a guest comes to tea and has a big nose and your mother says ‘Don’t mention his nose’ and you end up saying ‘Would you like sugar with your nose?’ instead of tea.

Nell: You said that?

Me: Yes, I did. My mother was not best pleased and neither was the vicar.

Nell: Oh dear. I think it might be best not to call anyone anything today.

Me: I think you’re right. Sorry.