I fill baskets with each boy’s stuff and place them on the stairs. Then I wait in hope that a boy will notice them, pick it up and put the contents away. In a parallel universe.
Quite different when it comes to putting stuff away in lofts though. Boys punch and elbow their way to the landing. They stand before the great trapdoor like it’s a gateway to another world. They stare transfixed as the loft ladder is lowered.
“I’ll go up, I don’t mind” says the eldest casually. “You went up first the last time”, huffs the youngest.
“No-one is going up there before me”, declares Father of Misters protectively.
The other week however, it went pear-shaped. We have 2 lofts but ran out of money to fit a ladder for the second one. Suddenly consumed with the idea of transforming this unused space into a gym, Father of Misters went to investigate.
But how to get up there? The stepladder was untangled from the mess in the garage and placed under the loft hatch. There was quite a gap between the top of stepladder and loft entrance so it took quite an effort to get Father of Misters up there – the 2 misters were soon yanked up to have a look too.
What goes up, must come down…
Turns out, it’s easier to get into a loft than out of it and the realisation soon dawned that to step ON to the top step was going to be a little tricky. The 2 misters were lowered to safety but now Father of Misters was trapped. I held on to the stepladder whilst ushering the boys away.
Just as Father of Misters stuck his leg out to secure the top step, I thought the step-ladder should definitely have been facing the other way. Cue, Father of Misters crashing straight to the floor. Stepladder now at the tip.
Youngest Mister was clearly not too traumatised after the event as he was able to capture the moment through the medium of art.
Father of Misters never did mention that loft gym again.. every cloud and all that.