That Old Standby

‘Hi, Alexia.’
‘Hi, Peter.’
‘These last few days have been a bit overcast and gloomy, haven’t they?’
‘Yes, but still, it’s nearly Christmas, so it’s hard not to feel a little excited.’
‘I suppose so. There aren’t many places with decorations up yet though.’
‘No, but the holly berries are looking so bright – almost as if someone has been round polishing them and the ivy has its gorgeous black berries hanging all over the place. Did you see the frost the other morning? It’d sprinkled silver sparkle everywhere.’
‘No. I missed that. I’m not much of an early riser – if I can help it.’
‘You should get to bed earlier, Early to bed. Early to rise. Makes you healthy, wealthy and wise, you know.’
‘So I’ve heard. I did try it once or twice but I didn’t notice that I had any extra money, so I haven’t bothered with it again.’
‘Oh Peter, ha, ha. You need to do more than just get up early, idiot!’
‘I knew there must be a catch, somewhere. Early mornings are better spent sleeping, at least you’re doing something useful with them.’
‘If you were up earlier you would be able to do something useful.’
‘Yea, right. . . . Erm, er, Alexia? There’s a bit of a party in the glade tonight. Most of the crowd will be there. Would you like to come?’
‘Oh, Peter. That’s so nice of you to ask me, but I have to stay home tonight – I really must wash my hair.’