Sam: (putting scattered pens away)"I'm NEVER talking to you again!"

Rowan: (also putting pens away)"Me?"

Sam: "Not so much anyway."

Rowan: "What did I do?"

Sam: "You spat in my face!"

Rowan: (as the last pens go in the box)"I didn't mean too and anyhow you spat first"

Silence.

Sam: (both kids meander over to the couch) "I saw a talking cat"

Rowan: "Where?"

Sam: (hanging off the couch upsidedown)"At my papas house."

Rowan: (playing with big floppy troll) "What did it say? What language did it speak?"

Sam: "It said hello, only it sounded like bleaorgelo, I think it was French."

Rzan: (blogging) "If it said hello in French, it would sound like: Bonjour"

Sam: "Maybe it was Beborg, or Inglush"

Rowan: "Yeah, that's what talking cats speak."

Sam: "But it might have been a Chinese cat."

(both kids slither over the side of the couch onto the futon mattress, onto the floor and the pens come back out as they discuss imaginary languages, cats, lands and gibberish. I carry on with the blogging. Daniel and Ben are out partying tonight, boy are they missing out.)