Martin: Where the hell is Frasier, anyway? I could use some help here.
Daphne: He's still napping. 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: "'E's napping, 'e's napping."