LOFT SESSION

I had to climb up in the loft today, in search of my tent. My Mum also had an old sleeping bag that she wanted put up there and my sister wanted a bag of baby stuff brought down, so I popped open the hatch, ratcheted down the ladder and started the ascent.

The first thing that happened was that I scraped my back on the hatch as I climbed through it. That was painful. Then I climbed carefully into the cupboard, looking for what I needed. I felt like Bruce Willis in Die Hard when he's crawling through the ventilation system. It was dark, there was stuff everywhere, I'd been stabbed in the back, and I had to slide through on my hands and knees, knocking over old Christmas decorations and empty suitcases. I couldn't see the bag of baby stuff.

"It's up there somewhere," called someone from far below.

I saw my tent, sticking out of a tub. My sleeping bag was next to it so I grabbed them both and pulled them past me, one at a time. The tent thudded onto the floor behind me. The rolled-up sleeping bag rolled out onto the carpet.

"Have you put the light on?" shouted my Mum.

I backtracked, swung my legs through the hatch and reached for the light switch. The cupboard lit up in a dingy glow. Still no sign of the baby bag. I sighed to myself and gripped hold of the metal rungs, ready to descend, but not before grabbing hold of my sleeping bag and pulling it down through the hatch with me.

"It's blue," said my sister, "and it's got baby stuff in it."

What is baby stuff? I mean, that could mean anything. Nevertheless, I scooped up the other sleeping bag, the one that had been stuffed inside a black sack which my Mum wanted putting back in the loft. I scampered back up the ladder with it. Here's a top tip - if you have to climb a ladder - bunk bed, loft, fireman's, or otherwise, my advice is - at least wear a pair of slippers.

Inside the dimly lit cupboard, the black sack seemed to take on a life of its own. It bulged and billowed and ballooned as I tried squashing it in - the sleeping bag inside it was wriggling and trying to escape. In the end I ended up forcing it in with two bags of loft-insulation-foam.

I grabbed the tent, switched the light off and slid down the ladder. Then I pushed up the metal rungs and closed the hatch, ready for a nice sit down and a cup of tea. Weirdly, my hands were itching, so I was glad to feel the warmth of a cup, nicely prepared for me by my sister.

"Where's the blue bag?" she said, stirring in the milk.

"Oh," I replied.