Rainy day convo

Old Garden Bench: What a grey miserable day. No one's come out to sit on me today. Not even the wasps are out. I wish the sun would come out. Maybe Lou will come out for a bit of fresh air. The wasps don't even come near her and they love being around me.

Mr Hammock: I think they know she would swat them dead if they did. I don't mind the drizzles at all. Look how nice the garden is. The moisture's just soaking in, the ground's been so dry. Did you see the white poppy come out, near the doorstep?

Old Garden Bench: You and your poppies. You have poppies on the brain.

Mr Hammock: Not at all, not at all! I'm just pointing out that all this rain is good for the plants. And for H. His hay fever has also gone down a bit, he's not honking and sneezing so much.

Ratty White Chair: So true. Last two weeks you could hear him honking from miles away. And did you notice he's always wearing his shades nowadays? Even indoors!

Mr Hammock: What else can you do? Poor guy's had that allergy every spring since he was a boy almost. And he did burst a vessel in his eye.

Old Garden Bench: Whatever. I wonder what that chirpy weathercaster Wesla has in store this week. Or that cutie Mark. Shut up and let's listen to the TV.

Mr Hammock: Let's just watch the poppies grow...look, there's that beautiful new pink one blooming its head off. And there's that gang by the driveway. Been enjoying them for ages. (At this point the man of the house's noisy white Toyota Tundra comes barrelling out of the driveway and drives over the aforementioned mass of poppies)....Aaaach! Did you see what he did? Did you see what he did? My heart, mon Dieu, mon Dieu!

Mr Hammock is so unnerved by the tragic sight, he promptly sags in on himself. Ratty White Chair and Old Garden Bench try to revive him with mint from the far corners of the garden.

The End.