Nell: Why is David posing in front of my photo?
Me: Doesn’t he look magnificent? Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: You’ve had that photo on the wall for years.
Me: I know. I love it. You were only a puppy when it was taken.
Nell: But David’s constantly having his photo taken. He’s the Mayor of Kingsbridge. The paparazzi follow him everywhere.
Me: No, they don’t.
Nell: That Jack Russell in a trilby is always around.
Me: He’s the local reporter from the Daily Growl. It’s the Afghan who takes the pictures.
Nell: That’s not the point.
Me: No.
Nell: Much as I enjoy admiring David, I’d still like to know why he’s being photographed today.
Me: He did a Very Good Thing.
Nell: I’m extremely pleased to hear that.
Me: Yes, so was I. In fact, I was so pleased I asked him to pose for a photo.
Nell: Would it be possible to know what the Very Good Thing was?
Me: He didn’t eat anyone’s breakfast by mistake.
Nell: I beg your pardon?
Me: He was about to eat Harriet’s boiled egg when something inside him told him not to do that, so he didn’t.
Nell: I think you’ll find it was not Something inside him, but Someone beside him.
Me: How do you know that?
Nell: Because it was me. I distinctly remember saying, ‘Don’t do that, David.’
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: Quite.
Me: He must have thought you were his inner conscience.
Nell: Only if his inner conscience sounds like his aunt.
Me: You have a voice like someone’s inner conscience, Nell.
Nell: Stop making excuses for him.
Me: Whatever the reason he still didn’t eat the egg.
Nell: I’m not sure Not Doing Something deserves a photo.
Me: Well, I think it does. Sorry.
