Hiya! Come in, donât be shy! I always lurve catching up with Sleepover fans. Oops, sorry, somethingâs blocking my door! Let me shift this rubbish. Youâll have to pick your way through the bin bags. As you can see, Iâve been spring cleaning for hours.
You wouldnât BELIEVE what I found under my bed! Bald Barbies with missing limbs, ancient board games, plus something very fuzzy on a plate, which Iâm ashamed to say just might be a slice of old pizzaâ¦
Yeah yeah, Lyndsey Collins cleans her room. It should be posted on the internet, ha ha. So what brought THIS on, youâre wondering?
Well, Iâll tell you, but I warn you â itâs horribly humiliating. Yesterday all my mates came over in this big posse, looking incredibly serious.
Oh, hang on! Before I get into that, Iâd better quickly remind you who everyone in the Sleepover Club is!
First comes Frankie Thomas. Thatâs our Frankie through and through, she just naturally jumps to the head of the queue. (Hey, did you hear that? Iâm a poet!) Iâm not implying Frankieâs pushy, but that girl could totally run her own chat show without any guests! She used to be a typical only child. But Frankieâs really mellowed since her little sister was born. Sheâs so-o gooey about baby Izzy, itâs unbelievable!
Kennyâs the youngest in her family. Her full name is Laura McKenzie, but to us sheâs just Kenny or Kenz. Kennyâs a real laugh. Sheâs also a football fanatic, a real sports nut, a bit of a brainbox and as mad as they come!
Next comes Fliss, or âFelicityâ, as absolutely NO one calls her! Itâs not like Fliss is a total bimbo, just a deeply dedicated follower of fashion. Sheâs constantly worrying sheâs not pretty or skinny enough and going on stoopid diets, which can get just a bit boring. Fliss has the WORST luck with surnames. She used to be Felicity Sidebotham. But her mum recently married her long-term boyfriend, a builder called Andy Proudlove, so poor olâ Fliss is now Felicity Proudlove. Major improvement, huh!!
Last, but definitely not least â tada! Yess! Take a bow, Rosie Cartwright!
Mum says Rosieâs an âold head on young shouldersâ, which I think means she often acts too grown-up for her age. Rosieâs dad walked out on them, unfortunately, so now Rosie just lives with her mum, her big sister Tiff and her brother Adam, who has cerebral palsy. When Rosie first joined the Sleepover Club, she was seriously down in the dumps. It took us ages to convince her we wanted to be her friends. But now sheâs really chilled, just one of the gang!
Phew! Thatâs the intro out of the way. No, I didnât forget about me! I promise you, by the time Iâve finished telling you about our latest sleepover, youâll feel like you know me WAY too well!
Besides, Iâm dying to get back to telling you what happened yesterday. Like I said, my mates all looked so serious that I went all wobbly inside.
âWhatâs wrong?â I said nervously.
They must have appointed Frankie official spokesperson, because Kenny gave her a meaningful nudge.
âLyndz, this is going to sound really horrible,â Frankie gulped, âbut thereâs no nice way to put this and someone has to tell you. The fact is, your room is a total pigsty!â
I was shocked. I donât tend to notice my room, to be honest. I just like, sleep in it.
âWhatâs wrong with it?â I quavered.
âWell, this for a start.â Frankie picked up one of my old trainers and tipped it upside down. A handful of stale Smarties fell out. My baby brotherâs always hiding stuff in our shoes. Mum swears Spike is half baby, half squirrel!
âPlus this!â Rosie pointed sternly at my wastepaper basket, merrily spilling rubbish everywhere.
âItâs only old tissues and apple cores,â I said defensively. âNot like, droppings from plague rats or anything.â
Fliss crinkled her nose. âLyndz, maybe you havenât noticed, but lately itâs got really whiffy in here too.â
âIâll say,â Kenny agreed. âIf youâre not careful, the council will stick plastic tape across your door and declare you a health hazard.â
âHey, stop right there!â I told them fiercely. I was really hurt. âI like my room just the way it is, thanks. Itâs cosy and homey.â
Kenny shrugged. âYeah, right. Homey. If youâre a dust bunny!â She fished out several lumps of icky grey fluff from under my radiator and held them out with an accusing expression.
I was incredibly embarrassed, but I tried to put a brave face on it. âThatâs just dust,â I said breezily. âA bit of dust never hurt anybody.â
âDust breeds house mites,â Fliss said in her prissiest voice. âAnd mites cause allergies. Thatâs probably why you get those terrible hiccups all the time, Lyndz.â And she started on about some special vacuum cleaner her mum got from a catalogue, which sucks all this invisible dirt out of your mattress.