Nana is working on the six-month inspection of our mansion. She doesn’t like the noise that the screen makes for the sliding glass door for the balcony. She writes that down and asks me if there’s anything else.
OK, I mentioned a couple of months ago that the carpet in the hallway in front of our door was coming up. We have a look. It seems like it’s already been taken care of.
“Ask them where the Jacuzzi is,” I tell her. “I’ve looked in every room in the place for the last six months and I haven’t found it yet.”