Disasters at Breakfast

Nell: David’s taken things too far again.

Me: Why? What has he done?

Nell: Kev was giving him a comforting cuddle on the sofa because of the disaster at breakfast when things got out of control.

Me: What disaster at breakfast?

Nell: David overcooked the boiled eggs this morning so we had to send them back.

Me: Send them back? It’s not a restaurant, Nell.

Nell: Boiled eggs at breakfast need to be dippy. Everyone knows that. What are you going to do with your soldiers if the yolk is hard?

Me: Some people might prefer a hard boiled egg.

Nell: Hard boiled eggs are for picnics. Do keep up.

Me: What happened with Kev?

Nell: David climbed on top of him and knocked him over.

Me: Kev won’t mind.

Nell: What if he does that to a visiting dignitary?

Me: Are we expecting a visiting dignitary?

Nell: He’s the Mayor of Kingsbridge. It could happen at any time.

Me: He’s just affectionate. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Moving on, tomorrow is Halloween.

Me: I know.

Nell: Do you have a costume?

Me: No, I don’t.

Nell: You’d best pop over to the Big House and have a look in The Cat’s dressing up box.

Me: Must I?

Nell: Yes.

Me: Halloween never used to be a thing.

Nell: Well, it is now, especially with the younger animals and the llamas.

Me: Are they trick and treating?

Nell: Of course, but no sweets this year. Llamas are excitable at the best of times, they don’t need sugary treats.

Me: A handful of hay isn’t very exciting.

Nell: Nobody mentioned hay. Fresh fruit will do.

Me: If I was a llama a slice of apple wouldn’t get me cartwheeling.

Nell: Nothing will get you cartwheeling. Be honest.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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