Spoilt Boy

Dexter is a spoilt boy-that's what the parents said. I heard them muttering about him after a visit from Dexter's Mum. That party his sister had, got just a teeny weeny bit wild and the house burnt down. It's supremely brilliant because it means that Dexter and all his games will live with us until they build the house back up. Dexter's Dad is a builder so it shouldn't be too difficult. Dexter is going to move in with us tomorrow and can sleep on a mattress on my floor. When Dexter's Mum asked if this was OK, Mum and Dad put on their solemn faces and said, 'is this acceptable to you, Wilfred?'
So I pretended to think about it and pulled a tummy-ache face. 'I suppose it will be acceptable,' I said sadly but my feet couldn't help doing a little jig. 'And I suppose he'll be bringing all his toys with him, I'll just have to clear some space...'
'Oh, everything was burnt in the fire!' shrieked Dexter's Mum. 'We'll have to buy him a whole truckload of new games and toys-I hope you've got the room, Wilf...'
'No!' shouted Mum and Dad.
'YES!' I shouted at the same time but even louder.
'That's all settled then!' said Dexter's Mum.
The Parents were too busy doing goldfish impressions to reply.