Me: Happy Fourth Advent.
Nell: Never mind all that. We have a situation on our paws.
Me: What do you mean?
Nell: Nigel is guarding the bunk beds ready for the grandchildren’s arrival.
Me: I know. It’s sweet of him.
Nell: But so is the Stuffed Tiger.
Me: Yes, he’s on the top bunk with the Cuddle Nells.
Nell: Nigel hates the Stuffed Tiger.
Me: You’re not fond of it either.
Nell: Nigel really hates it.
Me: He definitely doesn’t like it. He tried to bite it one time when Kev was carrying it upstairs.
Nell: Exactly. This is a potentially awkward situation.
Me: But Nigel doesn’t know the Stuffed Tiger is up there.
Nell: What if he looks up?
Me: Well, he’s probably not going to be very pleased.
Nell: You need to tell that Tiger to leave.
Me: No, the children love it.
Nell: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Me: Is everyone ready?
Nell: No, it’s first thing in the morning.
Me: I can’t sleep.
Nell: Are you tracking their flight?
Me: Yes. They just left Berlin. Christmas is about to begin.
Nell: Sunday Songs today is flexible.
Me: We’re singing carols, aren’t we?
Nell: Only if you have time. Everyone knows you and Kev might have to leave early to get to the station.
Me: Good.
Nell: Do you have your Santa hat?
Me: Do I need one?
Nell: Of course you do. Your dear departed mother started the tradition of Santa hats years ago when she collected you from the airport one Christmas.
Me: You’re right. I don’t need a beard, do I?
Nell: Now you’re being ridiculous. Only David will be wearing a beard.
Me: Dave will?
Nell: Someone has to. Finish your breakfast and find your hat. Not long now.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
