Michael has collected a lot of snails in his wagon. He calls it his snail farm. Walking to school yesterday he was telling me about the land where snails live, called Snailandoy.
A small flashback: prior to this we had been talking about the theatre. We all went to the school concert last week, which included a few skits and monologues. I told Michael about Grandad John's glorious career in amateur musicals, with acting and singing. Then I described opera, with a tiny bit of acting but non-stop singing.
At this point, the conversation veered suddenly towards snails. Apparently in Snailandoy they have something called the Slimy Opera House. "But its not really slimy".