Sunday we go for lunch at the Lydo in Kensington. The food's lousy, but a big menu, the decor is appalling, but - hey, it's an original 50's diner and that's enough. There isn't much open on Sunday afternoons in Kensington.
So we've got a booth and are waiting for our food and the girl is keeping the conversation rolling along...
"What secret things should I do in my bed tonight...?" She asks out loud, a rhetorical question.
The boy, he just stares straight ahead, he's not saying a word, does not want to get involved....
"Why don't we ask your brother what secret things HE does when he's alone in bed" I offer.
She comes to his rescue.
"I know. He's got a TV and a Wii in his bedroom, he probably plays that....I'm going to ..." And here she mimes herself playing on her DS.
"You're right." I say. "He probably sits up late playing with his Wii..."