Me: Look at my Big Brave Beautiful Boy with his favourite toy. He’s even wearing it as a bracelet. Bless him.
Nell: David’s only wearing it because he thinks you’re going to throw it away.
Me: I wouldn’t do that.
Nell: Yes, you would. Everything’s going in bin bags, or boxes. Nothing is safe.
Me: We’re moving house, Nell. It’s the right time to declutter and we have to pack.
Nell: Some of our most treasured items have been heartlessly discarded.
Me: If you’re talking about smelly toys you buried in the garden then yes, some of them have to go.
Nell: And the torn blanket?
Me: It’s really old and tatty, Nell.
Nell: How would you feel if someone said ‘she’s a bit old and tatty, let’s take her to the dump’?
Me: I’d be ever so hurt and upset.
Nell: My point exactly.
Me: I’m not a blanket, Nell. I might be old but I don’t think I’m tatty.
Nell: Those clothes have seen better days.
Me: I’m packing up the house. You have to wear old clothes to do that.
Nell: Please have the courtesy to check with us before discarding treasured items.
Me: I don’t have the time to do that.
Nell: One of the llamas found a pair of its favourite slippers in the rubbish.
Me: Give me strength.
Nell: And Walter Pigeon saw you throwing a flamingo away when he was flying past. Imagine if Malcolm heard about that.
Me: It was a plastic nodding flamingo, Nell, that had lost its head.
Nell: I don’t blame it. Moving on, did you, or did you not, discard my old green handbag?
Me: I found you a new red one, Nell.
Nell: Do I look like a red handbag carrying sort of animal?
Me: No. Sorry.
