Me: Dave and Nigel make me laugh.
Nell: Why?
Me: They’re so competitive.
Nell: What do you mean?
Me: There’s always a race to see who can get on to the bed first. Dave won this morning but the minute he gets off Nigel will be on there lickety-split.
Nell: Lickety what?
Me: It’s just a saying.
Nell: You won’t see Harriet and I behaving like that.
Me: Because Harriet always lets you win.
Nell: I beg your pardon?
Me: You’re the Senior Labrador, Nell. Everyone lets you win.
Nell: They do not.
Me: I’ve seen the way you chase them out of the dog bed with a commanding bark.
Nell: Nonsense.
Me: And if they don’t move fast enough you show them your teeth.
Nell: I’m probably smiling.
Me: No, you’re not. You’ve got a lot worse in your old age.
Nell: Moving on, Herr Hoffmann is cooking a casserole today instead of a roast, with German dumplings.
Me: Will there be red cabbage?
Nell: Yes.
Me: I love dumplings.
Nell: They’re not roast potatoes though, are they?
Me: No.
Nell: And red cabbage isn’t cauliflower cheese?
Me: True.
Nell: And a casserole is most definitely not roast beef?
Me: No, but it’s still comforting and warming which is what you need on a cold November day.
Nell: You can’t have casserole sandwiches the next day.
Me: The mere thought.
Nell: Or bubble and squeak.
Me: Try and be a little more flexible, Nell.
Nell: I’m 13. My flexible days are over.
Me: I know what you mean.
Nell: Talking of flexibility, if anyone asks you to dance at Sunday Songs, please refuse.
Me: Why?
Nell: Let’s just say the Lindy Bop is not for you.
Me: Don’t you mean Hop?
Nell: That’s not the point.
Me: No. Sorry.
