Nell: Sometimes Nigel is simply too much.
Me: Look at him giving Dave a kiss. Bless him.
Nell: David doesn’t want a kiss.
Me: Nigel is just being affectionate.
Nell: Nigel needs to respect other animals’ boundaries.
Me: Don’t worry. He won’t try and kiss you. He knows you don’t like it.
Nell: I wouldn’t be so sure about that. He’s tried kissing me before.
Me: He can’t help it, Nell. Sometimes he needs to share the love.
Nell: Well, he can share it somewhere else.
Me: Don’t be harsh.
Nell: There’s no other way with Nigel.
Me: I’m sure Dave doesn’t really mind. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: Well, don’t coming running to me if the two boys fall out. I can’t see David putting up with this for very much longer.
Me: Is Sunday Songs in the Village Hall today?
Nell: Nice change of subject.
Me: I thought so.
Nell: Yes. Singing in the rain isn’t as much fun as the musical implies.
Me: My mother used to love that film. Gene Kelly was her favourite.
Nell: There will be no Yorkshire puddings with our Sunday roast today, by the way.
Me: Why?
Nell: We ate far too many of them yesterday with sausages. Remember?
Me: Oh yes. But they were giant ones.
Nell: A Yorkshire is a Yorkshire.
Me: I suppose so, although I could have managed a small one with my roast beef.
Nell: You sound just like David.
Me: At least we’re back to bacon sandwiches now that you’re feeling so much better.
Nell: Yes. Sunday isn’t Sunday without bacon.
Me: And a roast isn’t a roast without Yorkshires.
Nell: Change the record, please.
Me: But I don’t have a record player.
Nell: If we’re talking food let’s stick to bacon.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
