Me: Did you see the stunning sunset yesterday evening? Dave and I were mesmerised.
Nell: David should save his hat for later.
Me: Never mind hats, Nell. Look at the beauty around us. The colours were amazing.
Nell: I’m sure they were, but David’s feathers are going to get droopy if he doesn’t look after them.
Me: They’re supposed to be droopy. It’s that kind of hat.
Nell: Just saying.
Me: At least my Big Brave Beautiful Boy has a romantic soul.
Nell: Moving on, I need to talk about Swedish meatballs.
Me: Unbelievable.
Nell: Mashed, or new potatoes?
Me: Mashed.
Nell: Runner beans, or cabbage?
Me: Both, and lots of sauce.
Nell: And for dessert?
Me: Strawberries and cream.
Nell: Strawberries are an afternoon fruit.
Me: No, they’re not.
Nell: Ice cream should be enough, with apple crumble on the side.
Me: Apple crumble isn’t a side. It’s a main event.
Nell: Only in winter. Ice cream takes over in the warmer months.
Me: I don’t know why you asked me when you’ve already decided.
Nell: I’m asking everyone. Anyway, now the menu is sorted we can move on to the entertainment.
Me: We don’t need the Welsh Corgi Choir, Nell.
Nell: I know. The Whippets Institute String Quartet should suffice.
Me: I thought they had a Big Band?
Nell: They do. What do you think about a harp?
Me: It’s just dinner with Naughty Nigel, Boo and Charlotte.
Nell: You know perfectly well we’re expecting gatecrashers of the worst kind. As soon as that seagull hears the words ‘Swedish meatballs’ he’ll be straight over.
Me: How’s a harp going to help?
Nell: Harps are intimidating.
Me: They’re supposed to be relaxing.
Nell: Not when an octopus is playing.
Me: I’ve no idea what to say to that. Sorry.
