Nell: You’re not going to believe this.
Me: Have we run out of bacon?
Nell: This has nothing to do with bacon
Me: Only Dave usually brings me a bacon sandwich before Sunday Songs and he didn’t today.
Nell: You mean you didn’t get one?
Me: No, I didn’t.
Nell: But I saw him leave the kitchen carrying it.
Me: Oh dear. It’s a simple mistake to make.
Nell: No, it isn’t. He only had to walk up the stairs.
Me: I expect he’s hiding away now feeling all ashamed and guilty. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: David is not hiding at all. He’s fast asleep in the sunshine with a very full tummy ignoring all the chaos around him.
Me: What chaos?
Nell: Poppy is digging an enormous hole under the big bush in the front garden.
Me: What a strange thing to do.
Nell: Yes. Especially on a Sunday.
Me: Because it’s a day of rest?
Nell: No. It’s her busiest day. Sunday roast with all the trimmings doesn’t make itself you know.
Me: Maybe we should just have a salad.
Nell: I beg your pardon? Did you say ‘salad’?
Me: I did.
Nell: On a Sunday?
Me: It’s a very warm day, Nell.
Nell: Sundays are for Singing and Roasts.
Me: I only thought if Poppy is busy gardening she might not have time to prepare a big lunch.
Nell: I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.
Me: Do we know why she’s digging a hole?
Nell: We do not.
Me: I know elephants like to roll in mud. Maybe Poppy wants somewhere to stay cool.
Nell: In case you hadn’t noticed there’s a giant gazebo covering most of our front garden.
Me: True.
Nell: And Poppy is not an elephant.
Me: No. Sorry.
