Daphne: My grandfather used to nap every afternoon. He lived to be 93.
Martin: Really?
Daphne: He'd lie there on the sofa and you couldn't wake him for the world. Grammy would say: "He might as well be a dead man." Then, of course, one day we couldn't wake him. He really was a dead man. Poor Grammy. For weeks, she kept insisting: "He's napping, he's napping."
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