Nell: Why is Nigel on your bed?
Me: Dave got off and went downstairs. I’m going to have to brush him again even though I only did it yesterday. Look at the hair he’s shedding.
Nell: Never mind the hair. Nigel is supposed to be helping in the kitchen.
Me: Peeling vegetables for the roast later?
Nell: No. Herr Hoffmann has all the peeling under control.
Me: Washing up?
Nell: No, he and David had a water fight the last time they were on washing up duty. There were suds everywhere.
Me: The naughty boys. What is he supposed to be doing?
Nell: Making bacon sandwiches with David.
Me: I don’t know why anyone thinks those two can be trusted with bacon.
Nell: All Nigel has to do is put the red or brown sauce on the sandwiches.
Me: Mine’s brown sauce.
Nell: We know. We have a list.
Me: Good. Anyway, I had a really strange dream last night.
Nell: Here we go.
Me: Harriet stole a tractor and trailer and drove off through some quite complicated and busy city roads.
Nell: That’s absolute nonsense.
Me: I know. Harriet can’t drive a tractor.
Nell: Of course she can. But she would never steal one.
Me: I didn’t know she could drive.
Nell: Poppy taught her years ago. She can fly helicopters too.
Me: Gosh. I’m impressed. My dream doesn’t seem so silly now.
Nell: It’s still silly.
Me: Why?
Nell: You don’t drive a tractor through a city. Especially with a trailer on the back. Do keep up.
Me: You’re right.
Nell: Make sure you’ve laid the table before we leave for Sunday Songs.
Me: Why? I can do it when we get back.
Nell: On Sundays one expects to come home to a laid table.
Me: Fine. Sorry.
